


Mandorin One-shots and Alt POV

by LadyIrina



Series: The Mandalorian, his son and the Storm Trooper [9]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Corin's shitty childhood, F/M, M/M, Mandalorians are shit at communication, One Shot Collection, Paz has a secret, spoods
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:00:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 32,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24293248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyIrina/pseuds/LadyIrina
Summary: The promised collection of one-shots from the Mandorin AU I have posted earlier on Tumblr, in random order, at random moments in time.EDIT: Plus Alternate POVs to some scenes.
Relationships: Corin the Stormtrooper (Rescue and Regret)/The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV), Paz Vizla/Raga
Series: The Mandalorian, his son and the Storm Trooper [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1560925
Comments: 159
Kudos: 653





	1. Chapter 1

**I like your technique ******

Paz can hear the yelling and the thud of things being knocked over from way down the hallway and like a good little Mandalorian, he knows it is his duty to check it out. It sounds like a brutal fight and that means there is a good chance he can finally find someone capable of being a decent opponant. It sucks that every single kid his age is either too weak or too scared to give him a real challenge anymore. So what if Paz is bigger and burlier than all of them, a true Mandalorian wouldn’t let that stop them. 

Stepping into the room where the action is taking place, Paz pauses at the sight that meets him. Whatever he had expected, this wasn’t it. On the floor, Barthor is flailing, trying desperately to break free from his tormentor, who happens to be a skinny little girl with wild, curly hair, a perky nose and absolutely no fear. She’s using her tiny fists and determination like a true Mandalorian warrior. Paz gives a small huff of surprise and that catches her attention. She glares up at him through her curly locks, a clear challenge on her face asking if he wants his ass beat too. 

Paz figures she might be half his weight if she was soaked fully clothed in water and the top of her head probably reaches his shoulder, but what fascinates him is how the sight of him does not deter her in any way. She merely plants her palm in Barthor’s face and shoves his head down to shut him up, which leaves her free to keep glaring at Paz. 

She is.... awesome. 

“I like your technique.” Paz comments in a lazy drawl. “You’re Raga, right?” He’s seen her around before, vaguely, in the background, with the other toddlers. 

“Thanks.” She gives Barthor’s head a second shove as his wailing picks up. “Yeah. And you’re Paz. I know who you are. What do you want?” She sounds defensive and a little wary, (Making her smarter than most, as Paz is very much a threat to any kid looking for a fight.) but still not scared. Fearless and clever. She’s already far more interesting than all of his other friends. 

Paz nods towards the hallway. “I just saw Averek and Inslo head for the training room. Think you and me could take them down?” The boys in question are both several years older than them, highly trained and top of their class. 

Raga sits back on Barthor, letting go of his head and shirt to Barthor’s relief, and she grins widely at Paz, delighted at the challenge. “Definitely.” 

They both end up with bloody noses and more bruises than they can count, but it is totally worth it as Averek is gifted a sprained wrist and Inslo outright hides behind Davarax when he shows up to investigate the racket and kicks the younger children out of the training room. Paz laughs as they walk away, wrapping his arm around Raga’s thin shoulders and squeezes her tight. “That was the most fun I’ve had in ages!” 

Raga grins up at him. “We should do that again.” 

Paz looks down at her and grins as well. Finally someone who speaks his language. “How about tomorrow?” 

And something tells him this is just the start... 

[](https://ibb.co/7ycVPJ2)  
Absolutely ADORABLE art by the art deity Cac0daemonia!

**It’s okay**

Din pushes in the last coordinate just as the door to the cockpit opens and he tosses a quick glance at it, confirming it is indeed Corin, before turning back and locking in their destination. Din leans back into the pilot seat. “Okay, Sorgan next.”

Corin takes a step towards his seat, but pauses, hesitates, and then he turns and shuffles forward to stand next to the pilot seat instead.

Looking over at him, Din finds Corin standing there staring at the floor as if he can’t make himself meet his gaze. Everything in his posture screams guilt.

“I’m sorry.” Corin mumbles, sounding guilty as well.

Frowning, Din sits up with attention. “What’s wrong?”

Corin hesitates again, even turns his head a little as if looking for an escape, that maybe he could make a run for the cargo area, maybe hide where the kid is sleeping, then he swallows hard and seems to resign himself to his fate. He slowly lifts and holds out his right hand. “It’s nothing. It really is nothing. I just… You told me to tell you a-and I promised, but I’m fine.”

Din sees Corin’s wrist is extremely swollen and that **has** to be hurting like hell. Anger floods through Din. He reaches out and grabs a hold of Corin’s lower arm, steadies it and studies the damage. “I told you to sit down during take off!”

But, no, Corin had been fixated on getting the toy the child wanted. Din had heard a strange yelp as the ship had given a hard buck, but Corin hadn’t said anything and Din had quite honestly forgotten about it as he had merely gone ahead and fetched the kid’s toy from its compartment.  
That was hours ago. They had eaten, the child had fallen asleep and Corin had carried the kid below to its bed since then!

“I’m sorry…” Corin repeats in a low and miserable voice.

“Is it broken?” Din demands to know, tilting the arm a little to see if he can see any actual bones pressing against the skin. “This has to be broken. This is not fine!”

A quick glare up at the one determined to give him ulcers and Din feels his anger snap like a torn ligament. It is replaced with a stab of sadness.  
Corin looks… scared. He’s still staring at the floor and the mesmerizing eyes that had been filled with such joy when he was playing in the snow are now brimming with guilt and fear. He’s waiting for punishment.  
Carefully exhaling the renewed anger that flares up at the thought of the ones who had given Corin reason to think he will be disciplined for something like this, Din eases his grip into a light touch and clears his throat. “I’m sorry.”

Corin’s gaze flicks up to his before it darts down to the floor again. A faint frown visits for half a second. He doesn’t understand what Din is apologizing for and he’s too scared to ask.

Din stands up and hates that Corin automatically backs up to give him space while keeping his gaze submissively lowered. He hates it, but he forces the hatred down into his gut and gestures towards Corin’s seat. “Sit? I’m sorry I snapped at you. I didn’t mean…”

Corin quickly moves over and sits down in his seat, as if hoping to please Din with obedience and make him stop acting so weird. He still won’t look up at him. “It’s fine.”

Din reaches up to a compartment and grabs the kit with bacta strips and bandages, then he crouches down in front of him and makes Corin look at his visor. “I’m not angry with you, okay? I was just worried. I know I sound angry when I’m worried.”

There is that confused frown on Corin’s face again.

Din opens the kit and grabs some bacta gel that he gently applies to Corin’s wrist and is even more gentle when he wraps the bandage around it. “Accidents happen, Corin. What happened to your wrist was an accident. I’m not going to be angry with you because you had an accident.” He holds the wrist carefully between his hands. “I told you to tell me when you’re hurt. And you did.” Din gives a faint nod and adds as much gratitude as possible into his voice: “Thank you.”

Corin gulps down some air, shakes his head a little, doesn’t feel the first tear that slides down his skin, but when others join it; he quickly and harshly wipes at his face and his eyes with his uninjured hand to remove them as fast as possible. “Ignore me. Please. I don’t know why this… I never… This is stupid.” He tries at a laugh and fails, continues to rub at his face as if the tears are a crime.

Din instinctively knows that at some point in Corin’s life, they probably had been, and Corin’s father had dealt with their presence quite harshly. Sighing, he reaches a hand up to slide it behind Corin’s neck and urges him forward to lean against him, allows him to hide his face against Din’s neck.

“It’s okay…” Din murmurs, drawing light fingers over Corin’s nape. “It’s okay, ner kar'ta.”

And he intends to tell him as many times as it takes to make Corin believe him.

\- - -

**Raga's Musical Career**

Raga is drunk. 

Well, they're all pretty drunk, but Raga is giggling. Giggly drunk doesn't happen very often and is when Paz starts paying attention. Last time she got giggly drunk she delivered an impressive kov'nyn to a statue because she thought someone was trying to sneak up on her.

Some of the other Mandalorians gathered there are starting to drift out of the room to find their cots, knowing there will be training tomorrow and Davarax won't care if they're hung-over.  
The game is to spin a blaster and if you end up in the crosshair, you have to step into the side room and drink some horrid liquid that has you pretty woozy after about two sips. Paz got lucky tonight, only having to enter the room twice, but Raga got hit five times. Din, the idiot, is stone cold sober.

And speaking of Raga and hitting, she is currently threatening to punch some startled Mandalorian before giggling and hugging them tight.  
Yeah, okay, time for Raga to leave.

Paz gets up and walks over to her. “Come on. Time to go.” He clenches his jaw slightly when she turns to hug him too and only flinches a little with a grunt when she delivers a giggling punch to his side. “Say good night, Raga.” He bends down as she dives in to hug him again, making her flop over his shoulder when she misses and he straightens back up with his prize.

She doesn't fight him. She never does. She merely hangs there, giggles and chirps her good-nights and good-byes to the others as he carries her out of the room.

Paz is just stepping through the doorway when she places her hands against his shoulders, pushes, starts wiggling, pulling herself slightly more forward and he has to tighten his arm around her waist a little. “What are you...”  
He hears her giggling again, with utmost glee, and he can hardly believe his own ears.

“Hee hee hee, buttflap...” 

And Paz, the mighty Mandalorian, comes to a complete halt with utter disbelief when Raga drops her torso down his back, reaches out and starts patting his ass. Drumming away like an enthusiastic musician. And giggling.  
Every Mandalorian in the room behind them is startled into complete silence. What the...?

The absurdity of it all has Paz snorting a laugh. There exist no other soul in the Galaxy who would dare to play a jaunty beat on his ass. No one else. No one but her. She's still as fearless as when she was just a scrawny kid.  
“You're going to be the death of me, woman.” Paz declares with an amused smile, hidden under his helmet along with so many other soft feelings he can't allow.

“Buttflap.” Raga snorts, patting happily away on the fabric as well as the butt under it.

He carries her to her room, where she makes an unhappy whine as he leans down and lets her flop back on her mattress. “Go to sleep, _vod._ ” He says.

Raga's hand grabs a hold of his pauldron as he tries to straighten up and she yanks him back down with her uncanny strength. She giggles, leans up and her t-visor is dangerously close to his.

Paz' heart jumps, he can't help it, even though he knows she doesn't think of him like that.

“You shouldn't cover up that ass, Paz. It's a mighty fine ass. A prime piece of ass.” Raga releases him just as abruptly and her head drops back to the mattress. “Mmh, tired now...”

“Then sleep...” Paz says, weirdly embarrassed and... pleased that she approves of what she'd seen? And touched. Repeatedly. Okay, time for Paz to leave! He straightens and backs away from the bed. “I'll see you tomorrow.”

Raga lifts a hand and points blindly at him, confirming it, then it falls down and she is already drifting off to sleep.

Stepping out of the room, closing the door behind him, Paz turns to set course for his room, only to freeze when he sees Din leaning against the wall, arms lazily crossed and one ankle over the other.  
Great.  
“What do you want?” Paz growls. 

Din makes a thoughtful sound, tilting his head. “So... Do I get to try those drums or is there a queue? Do you charge per slap or per minute?”

Paz stalks by him, making sure that his shoulder knocks Din off balance as he passes the younger Mandalorian; “I will shoot you in the face, Din.”

“You didn't answer my questions!” Din shouts after him with evil delight that turns into laughter when the door to Paz' room slams shut.

\- - -

**Barthor**

The sound of heavy footsteps in the hallway they’re standing in catches Barthor’s attention. He glances over mid-conversation with Crail about the chores Davarax had handed out to see Paz walking towards them, probably heading towards the training room as usual.

“Hey, Paz.” Barthor greets, then both he and Crail bounces off Paz’ armor as he merely walks straight through them and doesn’t even bother with a reply beyond possibly a grunt.

Crail peels himself off the wall and turns his t-visor to glare after the massive shape. “He’s such a jerk. And so are the others. Raga is always making fights happen and I’m pretty sure Din is a psycho. I don’t get why you put up with them, Barthor. You should ask Davarax to move you to my group.”

Barthor shrugs and smiles a little under his helmet. “I know they can be... rough.”  
Like when he tried to tell Paz that he really shouldn’t knock everyone unconscious during training and Paz had merely placed his huge hand against Barthor’s visor and shoved him away. Or when Barthor had to pull Raga off the guy stupid enough to provoke her to save his life and getting yelled at for his effort, plus severely bruised ribs due to her flailing. And Din... Yeah, Din was scary. There was the time when he had used Barthor for target practice.  
“But,” Barthor continues, “they’re not all bad.” 

\- Like when he’d found Din dismantling and cleaning the new blaster he’d required on the latest mission he’d been allowed out on. “Wow, that looks so cool. Everyone is going to be amazed when they see that!” Barthor had said, knowing too well he merely had an old blaster he’d inherited from his older brother. There were no words to cover his surprise when Barthor entered his room that evening to find the blaster lying on his bed. He tried to give it back, but Din merely walked away.

\- Or when Barthor was so excited and nervous about his first date that he was unable to eat all day. Barthor really, really liked this girl and was awkwardly aware of that he was the runt of his group. He did not expect to overhear from one of the rooms, Raga’s voice saying; “If you hurt him, I will hurt you.” And when the girl tried to squeak that she had no intention of doing so, Raga merely shushed her and said, “No, no, you don’t understand. I mean it. If you hurt him, I will _hurt_ you.”

\- And then there was the time when Barthor had found himself on the verge of getting the snot beat out of him because he refused to stop defending his clan’s honour. Inslo and two of his friends, all much more experienced fighters than Barthor, were stalking towards him, ready to pounce, when suddenly they came to an abrupt halt. Barthor saw Inslo’s pauldrons slump along with his shoulders and his entire body suddenly radiated fear. All three of them mumbled apologies and fled. Barthor, half-way into a battle stance, blinked confused, until he took a step back and bumped into a wall. No. Not a wall. Paz. Who towered behind him in the most terrifying way, like a guardian specter.

Crail shakes his head. “Whatever. I just don’t know why you put up with them.” He goes back to the list of chores and they start dividing them up.

Barthor makes sure to place Paz on clean-up duty, which he knows he hates. Raga gets to train the teenage Mandalorians, who are bound to make passes at her which will make her incredibly uncomfortable. And Din gets kitchen duty, where he has little to no interest in being. That should piss them all off. Good. 

Barthor grins. Crail might not understand, but Barthor has a sneaking suspicion he knows why he was put in this group.

\- - -

**Save a Blurrg, ride a Mandalorian**

Raga sits down on the bench, wipes at her neck and throat with a towel. Today's training had been a tough one, Barthor and Din are quiet for once as they stagger off the mat and even she can feel a pleasant ache in her muscles. The only one who seems to have more energy to burn is of course Paz.  
He continues to train even as Barthor and Din gather their stuff and then shuffle out to leave only Raga in the room with him.

Training often ends like this. And Raga doesn't mind. As a Mandalorian, she does enjoy the sight of a powerful fighter.  
And Paz is about as strong as they can get.

Din and Barthor are not weak. They're quite sturdy and muscular, impressive by themselves, but they are nowhere near as massive as Paz.  
No one in the Covert is.  
And while she's quite proud of her own progress when it comes to building muscle, there is something undeniable thrilling about being near that kind of raw strength. Raga is no fragile flower, but standing next to Paz makes her feel small, and strangely enough not in a bad way.

She watches as he eventually winds down and decides to call it a day as well. His short-sleeved shirt gives her a nice view of his arms and how it tightens over his shoulders and Raga looks.

Okay, so he's her friend, but she's 17, she totally blames hormones. And it's not like he knows she looking. It's just not possible to ignore Paz when he's in a room. He's just too... big.  
Raga absently wipes a drop of sweat from her neck.

“You done?” Paz asks, bending down to pick up his towel and walking towards her.

Humming confirmation, Raga watches him move. It's not just the muscles that makes him big, everything about him is big. His towering height, the width of those shoulders, his hands, that massive chest, the solid stomach and thick thighs... and...  
Yeah, definitely hormones.

Once he pauses in front of her, Raga stands up and hopes her voice is steady. “Want to go cause some trouble?”

Paz laughs, a deep sound from his chest, and he wraps a strong arm around her neck and yanks her against him. “You looked ready to fall over at the end of the session. I think you need to rest, vod. We can do trouble tomorrow.”

Making a sound of protest, Raga squirms and pushes halfheartedly at his chest. (It's not her fault her brain enthusiastically registers the physique under her palms.) “Ew. Gross. You're all sweaty. Let go!”

That makes Paz laugh again and he wraps his other arm around her waist as well, pulling her even tighter against him instead. “I’m gross, huh?”

Oh, not only is he big, but the damn guy also gives the best hugs. Even this teasing, sweaty one makes Raga want to burrow closer and stay there forever. Relaxed and playful, only using a fraction of his strength, he's soft and so very comfortable to be squished against. He's like a giant pillow, hiding Beskar strength within. She has always loved his hugs. (Even Din did, at one point.)  
Raga pushes halfheartedly at him again, definitely not at all flustered or wondering for one insane moment how his size and strength could give anyone a rodeo of their lifetime.  
She is absolutely not disappointed when she hears a female voice calling out his name and feels Paz release her.

“Hey.” He turns his attention to the doorway, where his latest girlfriend is standing. “I'll be right there.” Paz glances back to Raga. “Tomorrow?”

Raga nods. “Tomorrow.” Her hands are still warm with the heat of him. Stupid hormones. And his are clearly worse than hers, judging by the tiny Mandalorian with an ugly helmet waiting for him. He has horrible taste. “Have fun.”

“I will.” He replies with a clear grin, rapping his knuckles over her helmet and laughing when Raga slaps his hand away.

She watches him place his arm around the girl's shoulders and lead her away, probably to his room, and Raga gnaws thoughtfully on her lower lip. It's just his hormones. The girlfriend won't last. A week, tops. Not worth thinking about. Raga just needs to get her own damn hormones under control. And she will.

Hmm, Raga had told Zhyion no last week when he asked her out, but he is kind of tall and definitely burly... Not as big as Paz, but not bad. Maybe she should see what he's up to.

And time proves her right: Paz' girlfriends never last, neither does Raga’s relationships, but their friendship remain as strong as Beskar. They lose Din when he sets out on a path of his own, driven by anger and bitterness, and Barthor becomes distant when he decides to walk in Davarax' footsteps to train the next generation, but Paz never leaves her.

During the funeral of her brothers, Paz is a quiet pillar of support next to her. Through her tears, Raga feels his big hand taking hers, carefully braiding their fingers, and she gives his a grateful squeeze.

Yeah, Paz is big, but Raga knows the biggest thing about him is his heart.

And that is what she loves most about her best friend.

\- - -

**What he never had**

Din enters the cabin, kicking snow off his boots before removing them and walking inside the living room. While his layers of clothing keeps him from freezing, there's no denying that it is damn cold outside and how much he appreciates the fact that Corin has lit up the fireplace and so Din is greeting by warmth the second he steps inside.

He removes his cloak as well before walking over to where Corin is sitting by said fireplace, focused on whatever he's working on. More Mando'a studies? A quick scan of the room finds the deeply concentrated child stretched out on the floor a small distance from Corin, drawing on a piece of paper, surrounded by discarded lumps of different coloring wax and unfinished masterpieces.  
“Hey. I see the artist is hard at work. What are you up to?” Din asks as he walks over to Corin. He sees the man flinch a little. Corin's head ducks down and his shoulders tense up. That usually means he's up to something harmless that he expects Din to get upset about.

“I, uh...” Corin hesitates. “I'm making... this.”

Din sits down next to him and sees that Corin appears to be carving some kind of figure out of a small piece of wood.

Din tilts his head curiously. “Can I see?”

Corin hesitates, then hands over the half-formed figure. It's clearly meant to become a frog.

Studying it, turning it in his hand, Din smiles under his helmet. “This is pretty good. I'm impressed.” He hands it back, curious as to why Corin would think this would upset him, but the man won't look at him with those beautiful eyes of his.

“I just...” Corin eventually mumbles, fidgeting with the half-shaped frog. “According to the puck, he's one year older tomorrow.” The shoulders tense up even more as he braces himself. “I wanted to give him something...”

Din frowns, scrambling to put the pieces together and make sense of the words. Suddenly he realizes. The child. Its given birth date stated on the bounty puck, that was tomorrow. And Corin wanted to give him a gift.  
Din feels a jab of shame over that he hadn't thought that far himself. He reaches out and picks up a piece of firewood yet to be fed to the flames and settles himself. “I'll make one too. How about a Loth-cat? We can make a whole bunch of animals.” He pulls out a blade and starts working as he leans over to whisper; “And we should head into the village tomorrow, get him some treats. We can bring him to that new play area they were working on last week. I'm willing to bet most of his friends will be there and we can get them to give him some of these wood animals. Also, if they're selling that flavored ice, we could get that too. For everyone.”

Corin is staring at him. Relief and surprise is warring in his eyes.

Din pauses. “What?” Had that been too much? He doesn’t remember nearly enough about his parents, but Din does remember how they used to dote on him on that day. And even the Covert made a big deal of that day if the person wanted them to. He's fairly certain the child would love such a day.

A mix of far too many emotions to count flashes in Corin's eyes and he quickly returns his focus to working on the frog. “Nothing.”

Now Din is the one staring while he yet again tries to put the pieces together. An unsettling suspicion crawls up Din's spine and he slowly turns his attention to carving the first pieces out of the wood. “I'm, uh, guessing you didn't celebrate yours all that much...?”

“No.” Corin's voice is carefully flat. “It was nothing to celebrate.” Then he suddenly looks over at Din again and smiles with pure delight as he whispers: “We shouldn't tell him we're going to that play area. Make it a surprise. He would love that.”

Din's heart clenches painfully and he has to clear his throat to regain his voice. “Yeah...” Putting the blade down, he then reaches out and gently brushes a lock of hair Corin's hair back from his forehead. “We'll make it his best celebration ever and then, tomorrow night when he's asleep, we'll start planning on how to top it next year. Deal?”

That makes Corin's smile shine even brighter with happiness, so eager to give the child what he never had; unconditional love and adoration. “Deal.”

Din slides his hand behind Corin's neck and they meet in a soft kov'nyn.  
“The kid is going to love that present of yours.” Din murmurs.

“You think so?” Corin sounds hopeful.

“Yeah.” Din has no doubt whatsoever. Partly because the child is obsessed with frogs, but mostly because Din is willing to bet that the kid will be able to feel how much love is poured into that gift. “Trust me, ner kar'ta. It's perfect.”

\- - -

**Attack of the spood**

“Did you hear Din is coming back?” Paz asks.

“Mmm.” Raga replies, disinterested, busy fidgeting with her vambrace.

“I don’t get why they allow him back into the Covert. He’s always leaving again, why does he even bother coming back?” Paz feels the usual anger when he thinks about Din Djarin. “It’s not fair he gets to leave and we’re stuck below. We’re Mandalorians. We’re warriors. We should be out there.”

“Mmm.” Raga replies, closing her vambrace.

“I’m just saying,” Paz continues, but the words fade quickly as he sees Raga’s body give a sharp jolt and then... she is more or less throwing herself at Paz. Her arms grabs a hold of his armor, her body up against his, and for a crazed moment; Paz thinks he must have fallen asleep and is dreaming. That is the only way this could be happening. In a dream.

But then Paz realizes that Raga hasn’t stopped. No, the woman is now actually climbing him, yet not in the way he’d pictured it in his secret dreams. There is a steady stream of a single word. (He could have sworn it sounds like ‘nope!’) She’s already got a knee up on his shoulder, threatening to topple him over and Paz automatically flails with one hand and supports her with the other.  
“Raga?!”

She doesn’t answer, merely straddles his shoulder, one muscular thigh against his throat and the other behind his neck, and he probably shouldn’t find that as enticing as he does, which is when she actually activates her flamethrower at some invisible threat in front of them.

By the time the flames die down, Paz is too stunned to talk. What just happened?  
And then he sees, from the ashes on the ground, a spider scuttles for freedom. Smiling, knowing his helmet will hide it from her, he reaches up and gently pats her knee and gives her an excuse.  
“If you wanted to do battle practice, you just had to ask, you know?” 

He never would have guessed that Raga is afraid of spiders, but he will keep her secret. He’s already kept his own secret for two decades, he can keep hers as well.

[](https://ibb.co/QpvvY09)  
Huge thank you to the awesome zeTomato for the hilarious art that inspired The Attack of the Spood!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, uhm, I said I would update them all in one chapter, but I am a lazy person and this was easier...
> 
> More one-shots from all over the timeline with all kinds of POVs.

**You're safe here**

Talking to three of his friends, hands in his pockets and utterly relaxed, Paz hears the rapid taptaptaptap of small shoes in a fierce sprint down the hallway. He then feels the impact of a skinny frame jumping on his back, which doesn't jostle him at all. Paz merely shrugs one shoulder a few seconds later to help her as Raga climbs up his back and soon settles on his shoulders, her thin legs dangling down his chest.  
He sees his friends shake their heads a little, still confused as to why he would hang out with that wild creature, but he watches them with a firm look; daring them to challenge him or simply make a comment. Paz hasn't handed out a good beating in days. He'd be glad to.  
Raga folds her arms on top of his head and leans her chin on them. He doesn't need to see her to know she's grinning, hoping they'll make the mistake of opening their mouths.

To Paz and Raga's disappointment, they keep quiet.  
A sharp whistle catches their attention and the children look over to where Davarax is standing.

“Paz. Over here.” Davarax orders.

Paz hesitates.

If it is possible to roll with his eyes with a helmet, that is what Davarax does. “Yes. Fine. Bring her too.”

Paz shuffles over to where his teacher is standing and follows him inside a room, hands still in his pockets and Raga on his shoulders.

Davarax turns and stands next to a small boy with dark hair and even darker eyes. “This is Din. He's going to stay with us.”

“This is the way.” Paz replies and Raga echoes it.

Din watches them warily. He has the stare many other Foundlings has had before him. Paz recognizes it. This is someone who has seen war and watched loved ones die.

“I want you to show him around. Introduce him. You know the drill.” Davarax says. “He will be joining your group, Paz.”

Paz nods. He gestures for Din to follow him. “Let's go, kid.”  
Raga jumps down from his shoulders, takes Din's hand and drags him out the door.  
Paz moves to follow, but Davarax' hand grabs his neck and holds him back to deliver some final words.

“Listen, that kid just lost his parents and his entire village. Go easy on him. No fighting. And keep that girl of yours from attacking him too. He's not ready for it yet. Understand?”

Paz nods again and Davarax lets go. Out in the hallway, Din and Raga are waiting for him.  
A quick scan tells Paz that Din is some years younger than him, a skinny little thing, but there is steel in his eyes. “I'm Paz. She's Raga. You'll be hanging with us from now on.”

“If anyone gives you any trouble, you just let us know!” Raga declares in a loud, proud voice.

Sighing, Paz kneels down and ties the undone laces on her left shoe. “Sure. What she said.”

In the days that follow, Din is quiet but that is no surprise. Most Foundlings are. He needs time. Paz doesn't push.  
During their first training together, Paz and Din merely watch while Raga chases a frantic Barthor around in the training room as they wait for Davarax to arrive.  
The third time Barthor runs by Paz to avoid his tormentor, Paz sticks his foot out and trips him.  
Raga jumps her prey without hesitation and at least there is some entertainment until their teacher finally appears and puts an abrupt halt to it by lifting her up by the back of her shirt and hoisting her away. (Davarax had been wary about adding Raga to his group and only agreed because she behaved somewhat less feral around Paz and her former teacher was sick of her antics.)

Din is not trained in combat so it takes no effort for Paz to defeat him. But the more defeats Din tastes, the more determined the little Womp Rat becomes and Paz figures there might be hope for him in the future if he keeps up with his training.  
Raga, however, is improving at a worrying pace, diving fearlessly into every challenge. Even Davarax seems uncomfortable about turning his back on her. Paz can't help a proud grin on his face.  
She was, and still is, awesome.

Din has been there for almost a standard month when they spend their first night away from their own beds. He hasn't really spoken much during these weeks, seems as distant and shut down as the first day he had arrived, but he's already growing stronger and he's smart, so Paz doesn't mind. Barthor talks enough for the four of them anyway. Din probably just needs more time. That's okay.

They are curled up in a big bed with a bad mattress and no sheets, a demonstration of the tough circumstances they will face as future warriors, when Paz wakes up due to a strange sound.  
Blinking, Paz lies in the semi-dark and listens. His instincts tells him something is wrong.

Barthor is curled up in front of him and Raga is a warm, little backpack behind him, but Paz instantly knows Din is missing. Lifting his head, Paz looks around the room and sees Din sitting in the darkest corner; his knees are drawn up to his chest and he is crying.  
Raga kicks Paz in the kidney, but he doesn't react. She does that sometimes. His focus is on Din.

Sniffling quietly, Din wipes at his eyes, but can't get the tears to stop. Nightmare, maybe? Dreaming about his parents? About what happened? Maybe he's scared it will happen again?  
Paz sits up, knowing he won't be able to sleep as long as Din is crying. “Hey...”

Din starts, unaware of Paz waking up, and he quickly wipes the tears away.

Raga kicks Paz in the hip. Paz rubs a fist into his left eye and yawns. “Din. C'mere.” When Din doesn't reply, just stares at him with those dark eyes of his, Paz feels a flicker of annoyance that seeps into his voice. “I said; come here.”

Din gets up with a look of humiliation and defeat and shuffles towards the bed.

Paz resolutely shoves Barthor away and grabs Din by the wrist, yanking him down.  
Din is too stunned to protest when Paz places his arm around him and pulls him close. The boy is really cold. He must have been sitting there for a while.  
Raga sighs and burrows close to Paz' back again. Barthor lets out a soft snore.

There is a brief silence, then Paz speaks. “I'm sorry about your parents. That sucks. But you're one of us now, and I'll keep you safe, okay?” Paz is the biggest and strongest of them. He can even beat up kids much older than himself. Anything that comes after Din, he'll beat that up too.

“Even if there are androids?” Din asks in a thin voice.

“Definitely.” Paz confirms with easy confidence. “I'll protect you. I promise.”

There are no more nightmares that night.

_12 years later_

Davarax can't help smiling as he watches his former students. His kids, as he calls them. He'd warned them all about the Mandalorian wine, but youth made for more courage than brains.  
Paz and Din had nurtured their eternal rivalry and tried to out-drink each other, ending up with both of them falling asleep, sitting side by side on the floor while leaning against the wall. After that, it didn't take long for Raga to stumble over to inch her way under Paz' obliging right arm and falling asleep there, or for Barthor to end up slumped over their legs like a pet and snoring loudly.

Twitching in his sleep, tormented by restless anger even in his slumber, Din sinks over and his helmet makes a metallic clink as it hits Paz' pauldron.  
Paz grumbles, but doesn't wake up. Instead, he automatically lifts his arm, like he'd done for Raga, and Din shifts closer until he's comfortable and Paz then lowers his arm around him as well.

Davarax smiles. Even after all these years, they're still looking after each other.

Yeah, whatever life throws at them, his kids are going to do just fine.

\- - -

**Oh.**

It's been two months since he saw her last. It's the longest Paz and Raga has been apart for almost five years. He's absently punching at the training bag while waiting for her to show up.

“I thought your father had decided to run off with you forever!” Raga's voice declares.

Paz spins around to greet her, delighted to finally be reunited with his best friend. “There were complications.”

Raga makes a thoughtful hum under her helmet, throwing her training bag aside and cracking her knuckles as she steps forward. “I'm freaking jealous. I've been stuck here with Din and Barthor while you've been out, experiencing things and shooting people. It's not fair.”

She throws a punch that he easily dodges, but Paz frowns. There is something different about her.

“So?” Raga throws a second punch. He dodges that one too. “Tell me about what happened.”

Paz tilts his head and suddenly he realizes what he's staring at, what is different; Raga's top is curving sweetly over her chest in a way he hadn't noticed before.  
-Boobs, his brain unhelpfully informs him.  
Raga's third punch hits him directly in the visor and while he stumbles back a step, Raga makes a startled sound.

“What the hell, Paz?” She follows him. “Are you okay? Did you get hurt out there?”

Paz shakes his head, suddenly struggling to look at her. “No, uh, I'm fine. I just... I got distracted.” He clears his throat and goes into a combat position. “Let's go.”

Raga makes an excited sound. She loves it when she doesn't have to hold back, which Davarax always makes her do when training with the others. With Paz, she gets to let loose.  
And usually, that is no problem for Paz. Usually he's more than capable of blocking or taking the hits.  
When Raga lands her fourth hit, hears him grunt in pain, she snorts angrily and places her hands on her hips. Wait. When did she get those hips? “Okay, Paz, what is wrong? Why are you acting like a weirdo. Even injured you should've been able to block that. Did something happen out there?”

Paz clears his throat and tries to keep from staring at her chest, keeps trying to move his visor away and failing as it continues to snap back. “It's nothing. It's, uh, I'm fine.”

“What are you...” Raga catches him looking, of course she does, and she makes a frustrated huff. “Paz. Really?”

Paz flings out an accusatory finger at her. “You didn't have those before!”

“Uh, yeah, I did. Duh.” Raga shoots back.

“No. You didn't! I would have noticed if you had boobs!” Paz snaps.

“They're my boobs. I think I know how long they've been there.” Raga counters, taking a step towards him.

“Fine. Whatever.” Paz takes a step back. “Let's just... train.”

They try, but when Raga lands one hit after another, she eventually loses her patience with his awkwardness.  
“For the love of...” Raga grabs his hands and plants his palms to her chest. “It's just boobs. Okay?”

Paz flings himself away, loses his balance and ends up on his ass, staring up at her, his jaw dropping with utter shock, luckily hidden by his helmet. His palms are tingling with the memory of the softness they'd just been pressed against. He curls his hands into fists, but can't do much more than that. He's too shocked.

“There.” Raga leans forward, all smugness. “Out of your system? Can we get some actual training done now? And maybe you can actually tell me what you've been up to for these last two months?”

Paz scrambles up on his feet, clenching and opening his hands, again and again, trying to dispel the feeling. “Please tell me you haven't been doing that with Din and Barthor too?”

Raga laughs, shaking her head. “No. Of course not. Because they didn't act like weirdos. Nobody cares, Paz. Are we training or not?”

Oh, Paz begs to differ. He's willing to bet a LOT of souls have notices and definitely care. A tense irritation is curling up tight in his belly. “Fine. Yeah. Let's.”

He manages somehow to stumble through one agonizingly long hour of trying not to stare and keep her from realizing he's staring, but after that day; Paz can't help but to notice that she's no longer that skinny little feral girl anymore.  
She's calmer, filling out in all the right places and Paz can't quite decide what he hates the most; that he can't stop seeing it or that he observes so many others are seeing it too. Suddenly the ones who had fled at the sight of her are very friendly and stepping into her personal space.  
They keep a respectful distance whenever Paz is around, but they're quick to shower her with compliments when he's not. The creeps. She's way too good for any of them.

Six months later, Paz doesn't sleep at all the night after she happily informs him she's got her very first boyfriend. He doesn't know who the guy is, but he hates him already.

Two months after that, Paz awkwardly offers her a bag of snacks when she shows up in his room, tears in her voice, telling him how she'd punched her now ex-boyfriend in the throat when he'd dumped her for someone else.

Raga is still awesome, still one of the best fighters he's ever seen, still has his shitty sense of humor, it's just that she's getting more and more, well, more. He has a moment of absolute horror when she hugs him and he feels a jolt of want at the feeling of her curves and softness against him. After he'd chosen to hang out with her instead of his girlfriend three times in a row, it takes a snarky comment from his girlfriend that maybe he should just date Raga instead of her to make him face the facts a little. 

He's in love. Paz doesn't like to admit it, but he feels it in the marrow of his bones. He'd been drawn to Raga from the very first meeting and now he's feeling that puppy love turn into something that she would probably punch _him_ in the throat for. Dammit, it's not his fault that she's turning hot! He hasn't changed, not like this at least, a deep voice and needing to shave was nothing like this, why did she have to change?  
It's awkward. It's weird. Paz hates it.

Except for when he doesn't.

Like when she curls up to him on his bed and chatter away about something, and it feels so soft and so right that he wishes time would stop.

Or when she slams him to the floor during training, straddles his waist, all sweaty and smug, and he finds himself weak and increasingly turned on.

But she never looks his way. Never shows any sign of considering him as anything but boring, old Paz. She keeps flirting with others, but never him. She's clearly not into him and that's... fine.  
It hurts, but it's fine. He can handle it. She doesn't owe him anything.  
Paz just needs her in his life. He just needs his best friend.

He will watch over her, back her up when she needs it, and that will be enough.

_Some time later_

Din is sharpening his latest vibro blade with slow, lazy movements, trying hard to ignore Paz sitting next to him. Din's ego, and his ribs, are still hurting from losing the practice fight to him yesterday.  
One day, one fine day, he will be able to stand his ground against Paz. He knows it.  
The sound of Raga laughing catches his attention and Din glances over. She's talking to one of the older boys from Telsk's group. Something which is of no interest to Din, so he shifts his gaze back to his blade.

Or, he means to. But on the way he notices that Paz' attention was drawn to Raga's laughter as well and there is 'something' about him that makes Din's radar twitch. There is definitely something there...

And when Raga's suitor wraps an arm around her shoulders, Paz carefully lowers his visor, avoids the sight. Paz never avoids anything! Why would he...  
Just like that, Din realizes. Hah. Paz has a crush! On Raga!

Oh, finally he has something to use against the big idiot. Din is going to torment the hell out of him.

But just as he is about to make his first verbal stab, Din sees Paz is quietly staring down at his own hands, slowly rolling a piece of wire between his gloved fingers, pensive and... vulnerable?

Din frowns. Strangely enough it feels like saying something would be wrong. There would be no honor in it. He doesn't mind punching Paz in his stupid helmet, rather likes it actually, but he doesn't want to hurt _him_. They've been through too much together for that.

Sighing, Din goes back to sharpening his blade. Fine. He'll keep quiet. 

It won't take long for Raga to find out, anyway, as Din knows Paz is shit at keeping secrets.

\- - -

**Tomorrow**

Leave-it fastens the last strap on his armor, slaps it into place and can't wait for the day when this place is safe enough so they won't have to wear the damn armor all the time.  
He whistles as he leaves his room and starts making his way down the hallway.

The door is open to the first room he passes and Leave-it glances inside as he walks by and sees Kiergan in there. He's struggling to place a crate on top of another, something heavy by the looks of it, and seeing Leave-it makes him draw a breath, clearly about to order him in to help.  
“You got this, man!” Leave-it declares, giving him a thumbs up as he walks on. “I believe in you!”

Shortly after that, Leave-it tries to sneak by the open door to the medical room where Hauroko is, but of course she sees him. The woman has a radar like a battleship. “Leave-it!” She snaps, poking her head into the hallway as he picks up the pace and walks faster. “The blood samples. We got to-”

“Tomorrow!” Leave-it shouts, almost to the safety of the stairway.

“That's what you said yesterday!” Hauroko shouts back.

“Later, then.” Leave-it declares and starts trotting down the stairs to the lower level. “Later!”

Humming to himself, he enters a new hallway and is halfway to the end when Jana comes walking out of her room, staring at the datapad in her hand. Leave-it continues to hum as he takes her hand and pulls her into a light embrace and a couple of swirls, before he releases her and, because he knows nothing fazes her, leaves her with a light kiss to her hand.  
Jana has barely glanced up from her datapad during it all, but smiles slightly as she turns and heads back in the direction she was aiming for.

Leave-it continues towards the end of the hallway but takes the time to give Heiden the same treatment as Jana when he comes shuffling around the corner, but because he knows everything flusters him; Leave-it leans in and ends it with a kiss to Heiden's cheek instead of his hand. Leaving behind the stuttering and flushed Heiden, Leave-it turns the corner and shortly after high-fives Kinnon as he passes her. Mokae flees before Leave-it gets too close.

Eventually he reaches his goal and Leave-it settles in to wait. It doesn't take too long. He tries to act busy, cutting some fruit he'd found into small pieces and glances over as Zev'sonya enters the kitchen. “Oh. Hey.” As if he hasn't been in the exact same spot for the last three days now.

And like the previous days, she sends him a wary look as she walks over to pick up the big bowl she mixes the ingredients in. “Hey.”

“How's he doing?” Leave-it asks. Partially because he actually does want to know, but also because it is the one safe topic he has uncovered.

Zev'sonya sighs and starts mixing what she will threaten Mose into eating. “Still too skinny.”

Leave-it watches as she works. While her hands are incredibly skilled at using a vibro blade to take lives, they are equally comfortable creating a meal that will improve someone's health. And while she's working, cutting up some pre-fried meat, Zev'sonya almost forgets to look annoyed at his presence.

“You're staring.” Zev'sonya states and, yeah, she looks annoyed now.

“Because you're beautiful.” Leave-it answers truthfully.

That brings a snort of a laugh from her, clearly not convinced, and she shakes her head. “Funny.”

“But I-” Leave-it starts, about to take a step forward, only to freeze when she does a sharp movement with her hand and suddenly a kitchen knife is trembling where it is embedded into the wall next to Leave-it's head. She then calmly puts the meat into the bowl with the rest of the mix and walks out of the kitchen.  
Leave-it swallows hard, then steps out into the hallway and watches her walk away.

“You are one very brave man.” Corin's voice suddenly says next to him.

Leave-it glances over, sees the man eating at a fruit similar to the one he'd been working on and he's watching Zev'sonya walk away too. Corin is wearing a slightly tight sleeveless shirt and training pants, and looking disturbingly good. If only Leave-it had been as pretty as Corin then Zev'sonya wouldn't have been able to resist. “Says the guy who decided to seduce a Mandalorian?”

Choking on his food, Corin stares wide eyed at him, flushing as fiercely as Heiden. “I-I never meant to... That wasn't...”

“Uh huh.” Leave-it says and grins widely as it flusters the man even more. Yeah, he can definitely see what Din sees in him. He's glad they found each other and happiness.

Heading back up, Leave-it joins in on the work that needs doing and he feels no small amount of satisfaction when he sees the castle becoming more and more like a proper headquarter. They can really do some good here. This place has a lot of potential.  
And once the work is done, Leave-it even does what he hates the most; drags himself to the medical room and submits to Hauroko's needles and reprimands. She's never forgotten that she was a squad leader. Though Kiergan had been Leave-it's leader, not her, she still orders him around.

“You have got to take this more seriously.” She places the hypo-syringe to his neck and injects the liquid.

Once the shot is done, Leave-it gets to his feet, turns and grins at her. “You worry too much. Relax.”

Shaking her head, Hauroko turns away and stores the blood samples she'd taken from him. “I mean it. And don't make me chase you next time, Leave-it. I will tranq you.”

Leave-it gives her a firm salute, winks at her annoyed glare, and hurries out of the room before she conjures up some more tests just to punish him.

The final thing Leave-it does every day is head up to the top balcony and watch as the sun sets. It's his little ritual. He crosses his arms and leans against the wall, admiring the colors in the sky.

“You should have seen this...” Leo mumbles. “You would have loved it.” He pauses for a second before he continues. “And you were right about Corin. He was everything you said he was. He's really nice. And speaking of nice, you would have loved Zev'sonya too. Well, okay, she might have terrified you at first, but there is so much more to her than that. You saw everything so much clearer than the rest of us, you'd see that too.”  
Leo lifts his hand and gently touches by the call sign on his armor. “We're doing pretty good, Michael. I think we're gonna make it.”  
Sighing, he lowers his hand. “Anyway, just wanted to say good night, so... Good night, Michael. Good night, mum and dad. Good night...” One by one, he names the ones he's lost along the way and there are so many. “I miss you.”

Leave-it turns around and walks inside. Tomorrow is a new day and who knows what that will bring? He pushes the grief down and summons a smile. Tomorrow will be awesome. Definitely! And his smile only wavers a little...

[ ](https://imgbb.com/)  
_Gorgeous art by the art deity cac0daemonia. Leave-it can dream, can't he?_

\- - -

**Paz' Day Off**

Lounging on his bed, his little make-shift table (That is in reality a transport box.) covered with all kinds of treats and a drink, Paz is lazily scrolling through the inventory list of weapons in the Covert and absently chewing on some particularly crunchy snacks. He'd done a full stock check yesterday and it isn't making sense. There are too many weapons. Which is weird.  
There is a slight thump, a body bumping into and then an incessant knocking on his door.

“Paz.” Raga's voice is clearly set to 'whine'.

Grabbing a handful of crunchies, Paz shoves them into his mouth before putting his helmet on and scooting out of bed, careful not to knock over his 'table'. He shuffles over to the door on bare feet, unlocks said door and opens it to look out at his impatient friend standing there.

“You got company?” Raga asks.

“Yes.” Paz replies.

She peeks inside and then faces him again. “Snacks do not count as company, Paz.”

“I waited three weeks for some of them. Damn right they count.” Paz replies.

Sighing, Raga shrugs. “Can I come in or not?”

Paz pretends to consider it, then turns and walks back to the bed, leaving the door open for her to enter. “Lucky for you they will keep. What's on your mind, vod?” He chews some of his 'cheek-supply' and crawls back into bed.  
Raga steps inside, closes the door behind her and soon climbs into the bed as well, forcing him to reach out and support his 'table' to prevent her from sending it tumbling to the floor.

“Carmela refuses to let me borrow her clippers. I don't know why she's being such a Jawa.” Raga makes a frustrated sound and worms her way to lie across Paz' stomach like a dead-weight, which also leaves her facing Paz' 'table' of snacks. “Hey, are those pepper pretzels?”

“Yes.” Paz picks up the datapad to gets some work done while she complains and he rests his arms on her back, too used to her crawling all over him the second he's out of armor to mind. “Want some? Then buy your own.” He scrolls down on the screen and starts chewing on his last pre-stored snack. “And Carmela is still pissed about you beating up her boyfriend last week. Should have done your hair before kicking his ass.”

“He was the one who wanted to spar.” Raga mutters.

“The guy is a weakling and an idiot. He got what he deserved. But that is why Carmela is pissed.” Paz smiles a little when that makes her let out a frustrated grunt and start playing with the hem of his t-shirt. It's not Raga's fault that she embodies the true Mandalorian fighting spirit. It was just a shame that she was born in the wrong time period. Raga belonged to the time when the Mandalorians were warriors instead of hiding below ground and getting bored. He places one hand to her neck, covered by the rough material meant to protect where there is no armor, and gives it a light and comforting squeeze. “She'll get over it.”

Raga lingers to complain a little longer, clearly 'very' bored, but eventually gets tired of that as well and decides to go find someone else to bother.  
She crawls over Paz, giving him one minor heart-attack when her knee slips and he automatically reaches out to prevent her from falling only to find his hand ending up on her gorgeous ass. Oh. That's going to haunt him. Clearing his throat, Paz quickly covers up his awkwardness by giving said ass a harsh slap. “Move. You're in the way of my expensive and tasty company. Get out.”

Grumbling, Raga does as ordered. And when the door closes behind her, Paz gets up as well and walks over to lock it, making sure it would be safe to take off his helmet.

Just as he reaches out, the door slams open and Din Djarin is standing there.  
Instantly annoyed, Paz just wants to have some peace and quiet and eat his snacks, is that too much to ask for on his ONE day off? “What?” Paz snaps. “What do you want?”

It seems like Din needs a moment to collect himself, then he almost hisses; “Did you tell everybody that me and Corin are sleeping together?”

Paz snorts. “Yeah. I walked in on you, remember? All half-naked and getting freaky at that inn.”

Din jolts as if Paz just stabbed him. “That wasn't... You can't just...”

“And in the training room.” Paz knows the excitement of a good sparring session, but honestly. “What if some kid had walked in on you two naked and busy? I'm still recovering!”

This makes Din cringe. Actually cringe. Paz hasn't seen him cringe since he was a child.  
“We're not, okay?” Din declares, sounding like he has to force the words out through clenched teeth. “We're not sleeping together. We're not together like that. Yet. Just friends. So, stop telling everyone we are! If he hears, then...”

Paz shakes his head a little. “Wait. What? Seriously?”

“Yes! Seriously!” Din barks, radiating awkwardness. “So shut your big, stupid mouth!”

It's too funny. Paz can't help himself. He breaks out laughing. And can't stop.

Din takes a step closer, tempted to use violence to make him stop probably, and without his armor, merely in his jammies, Paz would be at one serious disadvantage, but Din then clenches his hands into fists and holds himself there. “Tell them you were wrong. Tell them you were drunk and hallucinated. I don't care. Fix it!”

Paz manages through pure force of will to calm himself, then he leans against the doorway and smirks. “There is another way to solve it. So your boy isn't shocked to hear that you're sleeping with him.”

Din's visor tilts suspiciously. “Which is?”

“Sleep with him, of course. He was eying you like you were a fine meal in that training room.”

Din makes a half-choked sound, turns on his heel and, for the first time in his life, flees from Paz.  
Paz starts laughing again.

Walking down the hallway, Barthor blinks as Din storms by him, then he looks over at Paz in the doorway. “Paz. Hey, I was looking for you. I need to ask you if-”

“No.” Paz shuts the door resolutely, locks it and crawls back into bed. 

Removing his helmet, sighing satisfied, he gets comfortable, reaches out towards his snacks and suddenly realizes that the pretzels are gone. “RAGA!”

[ ](https://imgbb.com/)  
_Dangerously adorable art of Paz and his beloved snacks, by art deity cac0daemonia_

\- - -

**Hot, hot, hot, cold.**

From the second they step out of the Razor Crest and into the intense desert heat, Din sees misery on Corin's face. He doesn't complain out loud, but it is written all over him. Within the first hour, Corin's skin is glistering with sweat and other than a few words to the child in his arms, the man barely speaks.  
Din knows they will be stuck here for at least three days and while the heat doesn't bother him, he feels bad for Corin.

The first night they spend outdoors, under the open sky and on a large blanket, but Corin's fragile hope of cooler temperatures once the darkness descends is quickly shattered. It is still hot and now humidity sets in as well.

Din hears his tormented sigh as Corin settles on the blanket. He has shed his jacket and his shirt and is down to his sleeveless undershirt and pants. Corin curls up on his side with the child in front of him, and Din inches up against his back, wrapping an arm around him and hugging him close. If they get some sleep, at least the heat won't be bothering Corin while he's out of it.

At first it seems like Corin has fallen asleep right away, but just as Din is drifting off, the former Trooper twitches restlessly, shifts a little, and Din slides a leg over his to anchor him further.  
That seems to help as Corin goes still again. For a while at least. Then...

“No.” Corin suddenly blurts out, squirming for real and reaching back to shove at Din. “Nope. I'm sorry, but no. No, no, no. No way. Nu-uh. No.”

Confused, Din allows him to push him back enough to create some air between them. “Corin?”

“I can't!” Corin exclaims as he sits up, cringing a little as it makes the child give a curious coo, clearly woken up by the outburst. He gives the kid an apologetic smile and strokes the fuzzy head a couple of times before he shifts his frustrated focus over on Din again. “I'm sorry, but it's too warm. I can't. You got to...” He waves his hand at him, sharply, as if to shoo Din away.

Blinking surprised, Din is frozen for a moment, then he moves a couple of inches backwards and merely stares as Corin flops back down again with a huff, curling up on his side once more, his tempting back towards Din.  
“But...” Din reaches out and his fingertips barely brushes by Corin's shoulder before the other man twitches away from the touch with an annoyed sound and Din merely lets his hand sink to the blanket with a slightly lost feeling.  
The only one who gets any real sleep that night is the child.

For their second night, Din feels a sense of relief when they find accommodation so they get to spend it indoors. His hope is then quickly shattered when it becomes clear that there is no ventilation in the room other than a window, which doesn't really help as the heat and humidity is even worse than before.

There is a bed at least, but Corin quickly flings the covers away, strips down to his sleeveless shirt and underwear and when Din crawls into the bed as well, the former Trooper rolls as far away from him as possible and turns his back on him. Yet again a trying touch to Corin's shoulder is met with an irritated sound from his kar'ta, a clear warning to keep his distance.

Din doesn't sleep much that night either, and judging by the restless twitching and constant huffing from Corin, neither does he.

When it turns out they have to stay a third night, Din is anything but pleased.  
He doesn't like this. He doesn't like to see Corin miserable. He misses holding him so much it is starting to hurt. Din waited so long to be allowed to show his love for his partner, he violently hates having to go back to having distance between them after getting a taste of how glorious it is to be welcomed near him.

On the third night, Corin strips down to nothing but his underwear, lies huffing on his back in the bed with hatred in his eyes for the heat suffocating him.

Din stares helplessly at the glorious body displayed before him, torn between increasing distress and growing arousal. “Corin...” He almost pleads, hoping to be allowed close to him at least. He would be happy with that. He won't ask for more. He can wait. He just wants...

“Too warm.” Corin mutters, closing his eyes, and taking a deep, miserable breath.  
It makes the light from the lamp in the ceiling dance across his damp skin and Din has to grab a hold of the sheets to keep himself from reaching out. He silently vows that they are leaving this planet the very next day, no matter what!

Din doesn't sleep at all that night.

The change in Corin once they leave the planet is such a relief that Din feels dizzy. They have been on the Razor Crest for no more than thirty minutes before he hears Corin and the child playing and laughing on the floor behind him.

Back on the snow planet, back in their cabin and getting ready for sleep, Din crawls into bed. He half-expects Corin to roll away from his presence with an annoyed sound despite the cool temperature in the room, but he can't help himself, so he reaches out and tentatively touches Corin's shoulder...

Din's heart jumps as he is this time met with a drowsy smile and he eagerly shifts closer to Corin. When that is merely greeted with a deep sigh of contentment, Din dares to wrap his arms around him and pull him close, shuddering with delight at the feeling of that solid body against his again and hearing Corin hum with satisfaction. 

In that moment, right then and there, Din decides that he absolutely loves snow and the cold.

\- - -

**Family**

It is a coincidence that Davarax is walking by and notices the door to the old training room is open. The one no one uses anymore. Curious, he glances inside and curiosity instantly turns into worry.  
While the person has their back towards him, there is no mistaking those broad shoulders and the blue armor. But why is Paz sitting there? Alone?

“Hey...” Davarax gently knocks two knuckles on the open door. “Can I come in?”

Paz only shrugs. Usually the teenager is quite generous with his words, so that's not a good sign.

Davarax walks inside and sits down next to him on the floor. “What's wrong?”

Paz hesitates, keeps his t-visor locked on the floor, then sighs. “I'm going to lose tomorrow.”

Ah. The big blaster competition. Paz is a pretty good shot, but they both know that Din is uncannily accurate and beating him would require a miracle.  
“You don't know that.” Miracles sometimes happened. “And even so, it won't change the fact that you're an excellent warrior, Paz.”

“Tell that to my dad.” Paz mumbles, glancing over at him.

Paz' father is not a horrible man, but he is ambitious and places a lot of the weight of the Vizla clan on Paz' young shoulders. Davarax wonders if Paz' size and strength tricks his own father into believing he is far older than he is and thus saddles him with more than he should. “I will.”

Paz turns his visor back to the floor. “He's expecting me to win tomorrow. And I won't. Din hasn't missed a single target during our training.”

“Din has a good aim.” Davarax admits. “But you have everyone's respect. They wouldn't hesitate to follow you into battle. They don't care about a blaster competition.”

That makes Paz glance over at him again and his back straightens a little. “You really think so?”

“Yeah.” Davarax wraps an arm around the broad shoulders, squeezing him a little, and savoring the slightly embarrassed laugh he can hear from him. Despite how he's almost as big as Davarax now, there is still an awkwardness to Paz' limbs, a hint of childhood softness to his stomach and his heart is not completely hardened by life. Definitely not a child, but not yet a fully formed adult, still very much in need of a protective and supportive hand. Something he intends to remind Paz' father of.

One hour later, still mulling over the right words to say to the head of the Vizla clan, Davarax nearly has a heart attack when someone starts pounding on the door to his personal room. He hurries over and barely gets to open it before a wave of furious words slams into him.

“They say I can't go!” Raga rages up at him. “This is is kriffing bantha-shit!”

Davarax cringes a little and leans against the door frame, sighing. “Raga. Language.”

“Did you hear me?” Raga continues to rage. “It's not fair! I'm a better fighter and better shot than the lot of those idiots and they say I can't go?”

“It's the rules...” Davarax sighs again. “The age restriction is there for a reason. It can be quite dangerous.”

“Paz gets to go!” Raga yells.

“Yes.” Davarax replies calmly. “Because he is a year older than you.”

“It's not fair!” Raga repeats. “If Paz gets to go, I should get to go too! I can handle it!”

Davarax lightly taps his helmet against the door frame a couple times, considering. He has no doubt that Raga can handle her first trip outside of the Covert, she is one of the best fighters there, but the question is whether the team leader can handle her. Of all of his complicated students, Raga is the one the other teachers shies the most away from. Even Davarax had hesitated to accept her transfer into his group and only did so because Paz pleaded her case. She loves to instigate fights and doesn't respond well to orders. The only one she does respect is Paz. So it makes sense to send them out together, doesn't it? He knows Paz won't mind. The two are already so close they almost share a helmet.  
“Fine.” Davarax says. “I'll talk to them. See if they'll agree to it.”

Raga jolts with excitement. “Really?” There is surprise and genuine happiness in her voice.

Davarax nods, smiling a little himself. He loves these little moments when he's reminded of the girl behind the helmet, not just the agent of chaos. She has missed out on things in the past because the other teachers wanted her punished for one of the countless fights she's instigated, but if this means so much to her? Davarax will make it happen.

Raga slams her fist to his arm, hitting the vulnerable area just under his pauldron. “Thanks. You're pretty cool, you know.”

Closing his eyes, feeling the pain thumping and knowing that's going to bruise, Davarax sighs yet again. “No promises. I'll just talk to them.”

Laughing as she backs up a couple of steps, Raga shakes her head. “If you want something, you always get it. That's what so cool about you.”

As she stalks off, Davarax absently rubs his tender arm and snorts amused.  
Yeah, Raga is a troublemaker, but she's also clever and strong and fearless. Just as a Mandalorian daughter should be. 

It's late in the evening when Davarax finds Din still practicing in the shooting arena. He's clearly set on winning tomorrow and judging by his current aim; he will.  
But Davarax knows that Din doesn't care about the competition. He just wants to shoot. And Davarax is willing to bet he is seeing imperial droids instead of the target every single time.  
Raga might be the student that the other teachers fear, but Din is the only student that Davarax fears for. There is such rage in this boy, the kind that can devour a soul, and if that is unleashed...  
“Still practicing?”Davarax asks.

Din doesn't answer, merely keeps shooting and hitting his target every single time.

“I was wondering,” Davarax continues, as if Din hadn't just ignored him, “if you're not too busy after your little contest tomorrow... The Razor Crest needs some fixing after she took quite the beating last week, do you want to give me a hand?”

That makes Din lower the blaster and look back at him. “Really?” He sounds wary but hopeful. It would mean going outside and being allowed on his favorite ship.

“Yeah, really.” Davarax replies. “I could show you how to do the repairs. Could be handy to know?”

Din turns away from the targets and focuses fully on Davarax, now eager. “I'll learn. I promise.”

“You and me then, kid. Tomorrow.” Davarax feels a little lighter when he sees Din nod so intently that his entire helmet wobbles and the blaster seems forgotten in his hand. 

Yes, there is anger in him, but he's also a youngster that needs someone to care, to spend some time and effort on him. Din just needs something to focus his energy on, something that doesn't fuel his anger.

Walking down the hallway, tired and ready for bed, Davarax stops, reaches out and grabs the top of Barthor's backplate as he passes by him, yanking him to a halt.  
“Listen,” Davarax says, not looking at Barthor, his gaze fixed longingly at the door to his room, “Paz is having a shitty time. I need you to leave him alone for a couple of days. Including today.”

Barthor adjusts the grip on the box in his hands. “This isn't for him.”

“Good.” Davarax releases him and finally glances over. “How's your shoulder?”

Barthor looks over at him as well. “Better.”

During training the previous day, Din had wrenched Barthor's right shoulder pretty hard and left him in no small amount of pain. Davarax nods. “I talked to her and she said we could stop by any time and we'll get that armor of yours adjusted.” Barthor had inherited some parts from his older brother, who was quite a bit bigger than the wiry Barthor. “That should prevent that from happening again.”

“Thank you.” Barthor says with no small amount of gratitude in his words.

“No thanks needed, you know that. Now, carry on.” Davarax says and continues towards his room.

Some of the other teachers expressed concern at placing Barthor with the foul tempered Paz, the ruthless Raga and the scary Din, but Davarax isn't all that worried. Yesterday had been an accident, which happens, and whatever crap the others put Barthor through, he always has his revenge. That boy might be the most cunning student Davarax has ever had.

Davarax pities whoever that box is for.

[ ](https://imgbb.com/)  
[ ](https://imgbb.com/)

\- - -

**Too late?**

_( Remember when Raga went to get help and Paz and Liita got attacked by the Merc? This is Raga’s POV.)_

Something is wrong. She should never have left them behind.

It was the only way to get help, Raga knows that, but when she sees they are not by the camp fire, it confirms her fears. She should never have gone.  
Landing next to the fire, ignoring the two tower-guards landing their tiny skiff next to her, Raga scouts the surroundings.

“Here. Hurry.” Liita's voice sounds wrong. She sounds... scared.

Running towards the sound, Raga quickly makes out the contour of the Zeltron in the darkness and she is just about to ask where Paz is when she realizes why Liita is sitting in such an odd, forward-leaning position: Paz is lying flat out on the ground, completely unresponsive, and Liita is pressing down hard on his wound.  
“What...” Raga drops to her knees next to her, shoving her away and examines the wound and the bleeding. There is blood everywhere. Is Paz even breathing? “What happened?!” 

“The mercenary...” Liita replies in a whisper, sitting with her knees drawn up to her chest and a hand clenched in her hair as she trembles. “He wasn't dead. He came back, tried to kill me, so Paz killed him. Paz saved my life...” She lets go of her hair, takes a hold of something by her belt and holds it unsteadily towards Raga. “He told me to give you this.”

Sending the object a quick, disinterested look, Raga sees it is a blaster and merely returns her focus to Paz. She adjusts her visor to scan his vitals. He's alive, but barely and not for much longer unless they get him help. “We have to get him on the skiff. They have medical supplies at the tower.”

“He said...” Liita mumbles, sounding dazed. “Paz said you were his... kar tah? And that was all he needed, so he never-”

“Shut up!” Raga shouts at her, pressing down hard on Paz' wound. She doesn't want to hear this. Those are 'final words' and she refuses to accept it. “He's going to be fine.”

“He said what happened to Corin was his fault. To tell Din he was sorry for failing...” Liita continues as if Raga had not spoken. She's staring at the blaster in her hands that he wanted her to give to Raga. “He wanted me to give you this. He said you had to know that he-”

“Liita. Liita, listen to me,” Raga orders, making her look at her. Through the darkness, she can see Liita is crying and the dark smudges on her skin that is bound to be Paz' blood. “I need you to focus, okay? Run to the skiff and tell them to come over and help me carry Paz to the ship. Now. Hurry!”

Liita gets up on stiff and unsteady feet, but doesn't hesitate to do as she's been told. Good.

Raga looks down at Paz. She has one hand pressing down on his wound, but her other hand moves up to gently touch the oh so familiar blue helmet. She remembers finding him in a pool of blood at the mountain castle and the pure dread striking as she thought she'd lost him. She remembers the insane relief when he was brought back to her and how grateful she had been.  
Had that been a warning? A second chance? Which she had spent yelling at him, trying to push him into a fight to reassure herself that he was still the same old Paz, reacting with anger and fleeing when she accidentally discovered his secret. Throwing his confession in his face on the ship...

“I'm sorry...” Raga whispers, eyes welling up with tears.  
She can't lose him. She can't. Her life wouldn't make sense without him.

Suddenly she can understand why he refused to leave her on Nevarro that day, ignoring her orders to go, choosing to stay and die with her.

They belong together. As what, she doesn't know, but she knows she can't lose him.  
“Paz...” She pleads softly, leaning down, placing her helmet to his. “Please...” 

One more chance. She just needs one more chance, and she'll get it right this time.  
She'll talk to him, they will work it out, and everything will be fine.

She needs one more chance.  
She needs him.

Please...

\- 

He lives. Against all odds, Paz lives.  
So why does it feel like he's not here? He keeps pulling away, keeps flinching from her touches and doesn't want to talk about anything outside of battle. His walls are up like never before.

Raga does not want to waste her second second chance. She knows what he's feeling, so why does he shy away from even talking? She tries to be gentle, but he shuts her down every single time.

“No. She shouldn't have said anything. I don't want to talk about it.” Paz mutters to Raga as they walk by Corin and Din. “You take the old room. I'll find a new one. I'm tired. See you later.” 

Raga comes to a halt, her heart heavy and filled with unease, and she watches him walk away.  
Paz lives, but has his love for her died?

And why does that thought bother her so much?

[ ](https://imgbb.com/)  
_Heartbreakingly cute art of what Raga wanted to do, by art deity ZeTomatos!_


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mose's first days with Junior, Michael's death, Barthor's terrible horrible day, Zev and Corin talk about love, Drunk Corin is back, Paz watches a bar fight and Mokae despairs over having to live with slobs.

**Don't attached.**

- _Don't get attached_ , Mose tells himself. - _She's not yours. This is just temporary. She's going back to Din and Corin._

Junior pokes her head out of the pouch and eagerly reaches up as he brings her the improvised feeding bottle for breakfast. She grabs on with both hands, nearly pulling it out of his, and starts drinking, greedily, loud and messy. It is only on the second bottle that she slows down, little by little, and her eyes drift shut as she slips into a post-breakfast nap during those last swallows. Removing the bottle, getting no reaction from the comatose Huttlet, Mose gently draws his thumb over her mouth to remove the frothy milk mustache and carefully lifts her elbow back over the fold so she sinks down into the pouch with a soft snore.

- _Don't get attached_ , Mose tells himself.

It's easier to tell himself that at the crack of dawn when he's woken up by impatient cheeps from the pouch, which he can somewhat ignore, but that only makes Junior emerge, crawl up next to him on the pillows and place one hand on his face and the other one on his (luckily closed) eye, and she cheeps even louder into his ear. Rolling over to turn his back on her only results in her crawling over his neck and chirruping in his face until he gives up and is soon sleep-slithering towards the kitchen with a very smug Huttlet in his pouch.  
He keeps a feeding bottle in his room after that.

- _Do NOT get attached_ , Mose tells himself.

She is scared. So very scared. Especially of humans. And yet Mose isn't surprised that as she has seen the outside world, Junior will pop her head up and look around instead of sleep all the time as most Huttlets do at her age. She's a curious and clever little thing, and that is why Mose eventually manages to persuade her out of the pouch again to explore every once in a while. She looks for the little friend she made on her first day and lets out small calling chirps.  
But one loud sound, something unexpected, and she rushes back towards him to hide and to be protected.

- _Don't get attached_ , Mose tells himself.

In the safety of the pouch, Junior is quickly gaining confidence, even if the outside world terrify her. When her dinner is delayed, mid-day meals are meat and her favorite, Junior is not pleased, but Mose wants to finish what he's working on as it shouldn't take long. Her cheeps start out as a reminder of the time, then turn plaintive, but when he ignores that as well there is soon a sharp and angry squeak.  
Surprised at the audacity, Mose stops what he's doing and looks down to find the face of a furious Huttlet glaring up at him. “What tone did you just use to me...?”  
Junior lets out another angry squeak. Mose gingerly places a finger on top of her head and slowly pushes her down into the pouch again. He makes sure she doesn't see his amused smile.

\- _You can't get attached_ , Mose tells himself.

Junior turns to him for shelter. She turns to him for food and safety, that's all. It's a child's instinct to survive. She's not his, this is just temporary and she'll be happy as long as someone looks after her.  
And she will be both safe and loved with Din and Corin. Like the little one.  
So when Junior wiggles towards him and reaches up, Mose bends down as usual to let her in.  
He is a little confused when she doesn't burrow into safety, merely keeps reaching up. It takes several seconds before he awkwardly lifts her up into his arms, where she snuggles up to his neck and settles there to relax with a happy chirp. Mose slowly lifts a hand to run it gently over her back.

He can't get attached.

But... it's too late.

\- - -

**Gone, but not forgotten**

They are running towards the center of the city and Leave-it is twitching with adrenaline, torn between hysterical laughter and the urge to just scream.  
He knows they were warned that these people were dangerous and would fight back, but occupying this town had been unlike anything Leave-it had ever experienced before. These people fought like they didn't feel pain and didn't fear death, while he did both.

(At one point, Leave-it had met one who was carrying around a kriffing blaster cannon that had nearly taken his head off!)

Leave-it had been relieved to hear about the decision to use a public execution of two prisoners as bait to draw the few remaining souls out from their underground hiding place. At least that meant he did not have to go down there. But he should have known things wouldn't go according to plan. These people never played by the rules...  
The explosions had been a distraction. Of course they were. And it hadn't been long before they had gotten desperate pleas for help from the Troopers in the building with the prisoners.

By the time Leave-it and the others get to the entrance to the building, the fighting is over, some Troopers are in pursuit of the rescue party, but he never gets the chance to ask for orders as he automatically glances over to where a handful of Troopers are gathered around someone lying on the ground. It is a downed Storm Trooper without a helmet on. Their face is turned away from him, but somehow Leave-it _knows_ the second he sees the brown hair.

Ice cold dread strikes Leave-it and he rushes over to the fallen Storm Trooper, desperately hoping he's wrong while knowing he's not. “Michael?” He shoves the other Troopers aside and drops to his knees next to the still shape, reaching out and turning their face towards him. He knows it is him, he knows, but he still needs to see.

It's Michael.

Leave-it's eyes fill up with tears and he gently touches Michael's pale face. “Mikey?” His friend is gone, there is no doubt about that, but it is just so difficult to accept. “Mikey, no...” Bending down, Leave-it gently presses his helmet to Michael's forehead, quiet sobs slipping free as grief unfolds its wings and his heart breaks. Happy, sweet and clumsy Michael. Gone. Dead.

No. Nonono. Why? This isn't fair! WHY?

Eventually hands take a light hold of Leave-it's shoulders, someone is kneeling down next to him, and then there is Kiergan's gentle voice. “Leo, come on, we have to go...” There is devastated sorrow in his words, but also tension. “Get up. Please. They're calling us back to the ship.”

Reluctantly sitting up, unable to stop crying, Leave-it reaches out and carefully closes Michael's eyes. “They got Mikey, Kiergan...”

“No. They didn't.” Kiergan replies quietly. “Understand? We have to go.”

Looking from Michael and over to Moff Gideon, Leave-it shivers as the Moff is looking directly at him with a cold stare.

“The traitor CT-113 shot and killed Storm Trooper ST-2199.” Moff Gideon states, almost daring Leave-it to contradict him. “He tried to make him turn traitor and when ST-2199 refused, CT-113 shot him.”  
It's a lie. Leave-it knows it. Everyone there knows it. And yet nobody says anything as that would be suicide.

Leave-it lets Kiergan help him up his feet, steals a final mournful look at Michael, and is too stunned to object as he is guided away to the dropship waiting for them.

Michael is gone. He'll never laugh again. He will never flail and nearly fall when Leave-it startles him. Won't ever awkwardly blush at a compliment again. Won't talk, worry or dream ever again.  
After watching his father suffocate to death, knowing the same fate is waiting for him, Leo resigned himself to a short life and decided to enjoy every single day given to him. He's a dead man walking and he's had to come to terms with that.

But Michael? Michael had everything in front of him. His entire life. And he was such a good soul!  
The Galaxy won't be better or worse once Leo exits it, but without someone like Michael; it becomes a little darker. Michael deserved to live. He deserved so much better!

And Moff Gideon just murdered him like he meant nothing.

Back in their quarters, Leave-it sits on his bed and stares over at the empty bed where Michael should have been. All of his things were gone by the time they got back.  
Kiergan is standing next to the bed and Hauroko is pacing, arms crossed and tears in her eyes. 

“It wasn't just Michael. I heard there were children on board those ships.” Kiergan mumbles quietly. “He ordered them shot down anyway.”

Hauroko shakes her head, but doesn't stop pacing. “That can't be right.”

“You've heard the rumors about what he's done on other planets.” Kiergan weakly argues.

“Exactly.” Hauroko snaps, coming to halt to glare at him. “Rumors. Nothing but rumors.”

“I can't believe Michael is gone.” Leave-it whispers, speaking for the first time since their return.

Hauroko walks over to sit down on the bed and reaches out to cup the side of Leave-it's face with her right hand, using her thumb to wipe away a tear there while one trails down her own face. 

“Not from our memories.” Kiergan says, stubborn and soft at the same time. “He will never be gone from our memories. We will always remember him. _We_ will keep him alive.”

Leave-it nods, closing his eyes. Memories are now the only thing he has left after his friend.

And Leo will never forget him.  
Never.

\- - -

**Barthor's terrible horrible day**

Stalking into the room, Barthor doesn't hesitate to march right up to where Paz stands looking at some datapad and not even bothering to glance up as he approaches.  
“Did you tell them I'm half Jawa?” Barthor demands as he comes to halt in front of the towering idiot.

Paz hums an acknowledging sound, still not looking up from the screen.

“Are you aware of that they actually believe you, you idiot.”

That finally makes Paz' visor shift slightly so he can meet Barthor's hidden glare. “And?”

Infuriated by the carefree drawl, Barthor puffs up and clenches his fists. “Tell them you were joking, or else...”

Paz actually lowers the datapad, giving Barthor his full attention. “Or else... what?” He sounds neither worried or angry. More... amused.

Barthor grits his teeth, pulls his hand back to deliver the hardest punch he can muster but before he can act there is a slight 'thump' and the world wobbles slightly.  
For a moment, Barthor is confused, then he sees that Paz has reached out and placed his hand, palm down, on top of Barthor's helmet and Barthor's rage recovers. He means to move forward to land his punch, but suddenly realizes that his body moves but his head does not.  
Paz has a firm grip on his helmet and is keeping him at an arm-length distance.

Throwing his punch anyways, Barthor is forced to acknowledge that his reach isn't long enough, even though he tries several times and with both left and right hand. And no matter how he squirms and pushes at Paz' hand, he can't get loose.  
Punching at Paz' arm and stretching forward to kick at his shin results in a faint laugh from the idiot in blue.

Barthor struggles for a while, in vain, and finally, in desperation, he takes a double-grip on Paz' wrist and swings both legs up to kick at Paz' mid-section.

Paz chooses that moment to release his grip on the helmet, and gravity combined with surprise makes it so that Barthor lands on his back with an “Oof.” knocked out of him.

Face burning with flustered rage, Barthor flips over on his stomach to scramble back up, which is, of course, when Paz' boot comes down, gently but firmly, on his back and pins him to the ground while the horrible giant goes back to looking at the datapad.  
Flailing, kicking, nothing helps.  
Barthor is stuck.  
Forced to merely lie there, waiting for Paz to get bored and let him go, Barthor feels a chill go down his spine when Raga steps through the doorway and makes a happy sound at the sight of his pinned presence.

Oh no.

“I had some upgrades done to the jetpack.” Raga tells Paz. “I want to test its weight limits, but got to start small.”

Paz makes a thoughtful sound, then his boot disappears from Barthor's back. Seconds after that, Paz takes a hold of his backplate and Barthor is hauled up into the air.  
He dangles from Paz' grip, his feet not even touching ground, held forward to Raga like an offering.

“Go ahead.” Paz says to her.

Barthor crosses his arms sullenly. “I don't want to.” He suspects this is revenge for that little accident she had that there is no evidence to prove he was behind.

“Thanks.” Raga says, ignoring Barthor as easily as Paz is. She takes a hold of his upper arm and Paz releases Barthor to land on his feet, but he has barely regained his balance before she's dragging him along.  
“Let go.” Barthor demands, trying to dig his heels in and loosen her fingers from his arm, but in vain. She's too strong.

He doesn't scream, per say, when she takes off outside the Covert and does some gravity defying rolls with him clinging to her like a terrified baby, but there may have been some sound. It's when she starts doing loops that he does scream. He closes his eyes and prays for it to be over.  
Raga laughs.  
It seems to last for a small eternity.

When she finally lands, Barthor sinks to the ground and touches the lovely dirt with both hands while at the same time fighting not to throw up inside his helmet.  
He hates jetpacks. No, he hates jetpacks _on Raga_.

She makes a thoughtful grunt as she adjusts the straps on the jetpack. “I think maybe I could go even faster. Round two?”

Barthor isn't strong, not compared to Paz and her, but he is fast and he doesn't hesitate to sprint towards the safety of the Covert.

He will have his vengance. And it will be magnificent!  
Paz is bad. Raga is worse. Barthor has learned to take on one of them at the time. Paz and Raga, combined, that is a thing of nightmares. Even Din shies away from challenging them when they have a united front. Divide and conquer, the only way to defeat the Terrible Two!  
-  
In the distant future, Barthor has a moment of dread as he hears the words; “They're married.”  
Then he abruptly realizes this means they might create an actual living and breathing combination of the two and Barthor feels pure horror.  
They are all doomed...!

\- - -

**Love and helmets**

Walking inside, Corin has just finished up with his morning work-out and he pulls the front of his sleeveless up to dry the sweat off his face. Dropping the fabric down again, that's when he sees Zev'sonya watching something. The thoughtful frown on her face, the tilt to her head, awakens his curiosity so he saunters over to check out what she's looking at.

To his amusement, he quickly realizes that she's observing Leave-it.

Halting next to her, Corin has to grin a little as he watches the blond's tribulations as he's sitting on the floor and trying to get at one of the cookies inside the clay jar Paz had brought the child and Junior yesterday. The opening of the jar is clearly meant for small hands and Leave-it is trying to get to the treasure inside with his adult paws.

Zev'sonya sighs as Leave-it tries to hold the jar upside down and shake the cookies out to no avail as the opening is designed to prevent spill. “Tell me, Corin, have you ever questioned some of the choices you've made or looked at your life and asked yourself how the kriff you ended up where you are?”

Corin shrugs. “All the time.”

Smiling a little, she glances over at him. “Yeah. I guess you do.” She looks back at Leave-it who is now trying to look inside the jar with one eye. “You were supposed to live a life of riches and titles. Must be weird to end up with riffraff. And I'm guessing ending up with a Mandalorian wasn't a part of your plans either.”

“I didn't have any plans, really.” Corin replies with utter honesty. He did as he was told, it was his father who had all the plans. After his father died, Corin simply cared about staying alive. “And you're not riffraff. You're my friends. As for Din, I still can't believe I'm this lucky.”

Leave-it manages to pry his hand, after a lot of tweaking, into the jar and grins widely when he gets a hold of a cookie, only to get a look of confusion when he can't get his hand out again.

“I got to ask.” Zev'sonya turns to face Corin completely. “The helmet. It doesn't come off? Ever?”

Corin shakes his head. “It's a part of his Creed.” Truth be told, he doesn't think too much about Din always wearing it. It's just a part of Din to him.

“Not even when you're...?” Zev'sonya raises her eyebrows meaningfully at him.

At first Corin fails to realize what she's getting at and when he does get it, his face flares up and probably makes his already training-flustered face even more red. He stutters something.

Zev'sonya grins. “I guess that answers that. And it doesn't bother you?”

Corin shakes his head. Why should it?

Leave-it gets his hand free, looks at it and shoves it into the jar again.

“So you've never seen his face. Aren't you curious?” Zev'sonya certainly looks curious but also sounds a bit mesmerized by how Corin hasn't founded his attachment on Din's appearance.

“Curious? A little.” Corin admits with a slight taste of shame, but he's only human. “But it isn't all that important to me what he looks like.” He shrugs with a faint smile. “I love him. His heart, his kindness, his bravery and amazing soul. Him. That's what matters.”

Zev'sonya nods and turns her attention back to the blond, but Corin instinctively knows she does so to keep him from seeing what he's already seen; the flash of emotion in her eyes. 

Leave-it lets out a sound of distress as he tries in vain to tug his hand free of the jar without letting go of the cookie.

Zev'sonya closes her eyes for a second, sighs with the suffering of a thousand saints, then walks over and kneels down next to Leave-it. “Leave it, you idiot.” And when he does, she sneaks her much smaller hand inside, grabs a cookie between two fingers and tweaks it out before handing it to him.

Looking at the cookie like it was made out of Beskar, Leave-it then looks up at her and beams a smile bright enough to lighten the Galaxy. “You are the best!” With cookie safely in his right hand, he uses his left to take her hand in his. “Marry me.”

“Sure.” Zev'sonya deadpans, pulls free and gets up.

Leave-it scrambles to his feet as well, wide-eyed and excited. “Really?”

“Sure.” Zev'sonya continues in that same flat tone. “As soon as Din and Corin gets married. We can have a double-wedding.” She walks out of the room.

Leave-it makes a half-choked sound, looks over at the startled Corin, then runs after Zev'sonya. “That's not fair.” There is the sound of a cookie being devoured. “That could take YEARS!”

Shaking his head, Corin walks over and picks up the abandoned cookie jar to prevent anyone stepping on it. He doesn't understand why those two don't just get married already. It's so obvious that is where they're heading, what they both want, so why keep drawing it out?  
Corin stares down at the cookie jar and a thought seeps into his head...

Ten seconds later, Corin lets out a sound of distress as he can't get his hand out as long as he's got a cookie in his grip no matter how he tugs and struggles.

A faint sigh catches his attention and Corin looks over to see Din there, a thoughtful tilt to his head, watching him.

Corin blinks. “What?”

\- - -

**Return of Drunk Corin**

Tonight had been one of those evenings where the others decide to be sociable and enjoy both food and drink. In other words, one of those evenings where Mose tends to go into hiding and stay there.  
He's not sure why he didn't do that tonight, maybe he's getting used to these people, and Zev claims quite stubbornly that they don't mind him being there. 

Shoving food into his mouth, Mose is not prepared for someone calling out his name.  
Swallowing, he turns and finds Corin standing there, smiling up at him with a stupid look of bliss on his flustered face.

Oh, that man is definitely drunk.

Frowning, Mose swallows a second time to get down the final bits of food still stuck in his throat. “What do you want?”

“I just wanted to say...” Corin says, and there is a slight slur to his words. “I wanted to say that you...” He points at him, as if to make sure Mose knows who he is talking about. “I like you.”

Mose keeps still but scans their surroundings with his eyes to see if he's being pranked. “You're drunk.”

“Yes.” Corin nods, then smiles again. “But I like you when I'm sober too. Me and the baby. You.” He points again. “You are a good...” Corin frowns. “Person. Hutt. Hutt-person?”

Where is Din? Usually these two are attached at the hip. Why isn't the Mandalorian around when he's actually needed? Mose rumbles awkwardly, having no idea how to respond to that. Insults and offense, Mose can handle. This? Had it come from any other human, Mose might have suspected it was meant as mockery, but not Corin. He wouldn't. “O-kay...”

Delighted with the response, Corin's smile brightens until it can rival Zev's suitor's level and he flings his arms out, wraps them around as much of Mose as he can reach and squeezes him tight while pressing his cheek to Mose's torso.

Completely frozen, it takes several seconds before Mose regains his ability to speak. “What... are you doing?”

“M hugging you.” Corin drawls, still so damn cheerful it is freaking Mose out almost as much as the physical contact.

Mose places a finger to the front of Corin's head and forces his head back a little, meaning to push him away but the man refuses to let go. “You're drunk.” He repeats.

“Yup.” Corin agrees, dodging the finger and burying his face into Mose's torso with a faint giggle, squeezing him again. “And you're soft and squishy. Squishy squish.”

Mose sees movement by the door and is relieved when he sees it is Zev'sonya entering the room. He sees her pause and blink with surprise at the sight. A faint gesture of helplessness and a plea for help from him only makes her grin, cross her arms and lean back against the wall to watch the show.  
Oh, he's going to get her back for this.

A second push at Corin's head only makes him burrow tighter. Fine. If Mose can't push him away, he will make him let go.

Mose draws himself up to his full height, towering over everyone there, but his moment of triumph is turned into horror when Corin merely tightens his grip and hangs there, his feet not touching the floor, without any kind of difficulty or visible strain.  
Even doing a slight shimmy, Mose can't make Corin budge beyond his legs dangling a little.

He's like a barnacle!

“You act all grouchy, but you are just soft and squishy.” Corin declares out loud. “Inside and outside. Squishy squish!”

Zev'sonya places her hand over her mouth to stifle her laugh.

Abruptly lowering himself, Mose hears Corin's boots hit the floor with a thump, and his hands hover all over the human, not wanting to touch but increasingly desperate to make him let go.

Corin hums, rubbing his cheek against the leathery hide again. “I could sleep here...”

Oh, that is NOT happening!

There is the metallic sound of Beskar as Din finally appears and he pauses in the doorway at the sight as well.

“Get him off me!” Mose demands, too freaked out to be embarrassed about his shrill voice.

“Corin?” Din says, stepping closer.

Corin leans back a little, looks over at Din and grins happily. “Din! Hey!” He turns back to look up at Mose. “I'm telling Mose here that he's a good squishy squish.”

“Uh huh.” Din says, but he can't hide the amusement in his voice. “That's nice of you. But maybe it is time to-”

“He's my friend.” Corin declares, reaching up and patting his hand at Mose's face.

Stress makes Mose drool and Corin's palm smacks directly into it a couple of times. Drawing his hand back, Corin stares at the goo, wrinkles his nose, wipes his hand on his pants, before he reaches up to pat him at the exact same place and gets slimed again. “A little drooly, but I don't mind. Because he's my friend. He gives awesome hugs. So squishy.”

Mose knows some reptiles fake being dead when they are cornered. He briefly considers doing the same.

Din clears his throat, places his hand on Corin's shoulder and eases him back a little, using his cloak to wipe his hand clean again. “You can hug him again tomorrow, but right now we should get you back to our room.”

Corin nods, finally letting go and taking a step away. “Okidoki.” He points at Mose. “Tomorrow!”

“Yes. Tomorrow.” Din assures him as he guides him away and out of the room. “But first, back to our room and... Oh, okay, uhm, yeah, maybe wait until we're there? Ah. Hands. Corin, hands!”

Mose goes from horror to disgust and when he becomes aware of Zev'sonya's laughter, he glares.

But if Mose stores the kindness of Corin's gesture in his heart? Well, no one will know. Few think that Hutts have hearts anyway. It'll be his secret.

He just needs to find some way to dodge Corin all day tomorrow...

\- - -  
**The bar fight**

Paz is sitting comfortably on the wooden chair, leaning back, legs spread to take up room and feet planted firmly on the floor. He has his right hand resting on his right cuisses while the index finger on his left hand is following the rim of a glass on the table next to him in a never-ending circle. His laser cannon is placed on the floor, resting against his right shin. He watches what is happening.

“Sir?” The anxious bar-owner standing next to him whines, clutching a tray. “M-maybe you should... do something?”

The movement is reflected in his visor as a body goes flying by the unflinching Paz. It slams into the wall and drops to the floor. He doesn't bother replying to the bar-owner, ignores him completely, merely continues to watch, continues to run his finger along the delicate edge of the thin glass.

A table shatters as a body falls across it and the victim joins the five others already strewn unconsciously around the bar. There are now three left on their feet. One of them almost as big as Paz himself. Three of them. Against Raga.  
One throws a punch, which she dodges and returns even harder. When that one stumbles backwards, the other two decides to try their luck. She awards them with several hits as well.

“Sir?” The bar-owner whines, even more anxiously, when the big one slams a chair against Raga's back and knocks her to the floor. “Sir, you...” He flinches as the big one lands not one, not two, but three punches to Raga's helmet. “Sir!”

Paz doesn't move.

And the bar-owner then gulps when Raga twists her body and plants her boot into her attacker's gut with such force that she sends him flying backwards. She then grabs the ankle of the next idiot about to test his luck, pulls and he falls screaming into a hurricane of armor and violence.

Raga gets up on her feet, slightly unsteady but with no small amount of anger and determination in her movements as well. She uses her jetpack to jump over to the still slightly dazed giant and land a kov'nyn so hard the bar-owner cringes in pure empathy and wooden floor cracks when the large one falls. 

Paz continues to trail the edge of the glass.

A punch to her ribs, where there is only underarmor, brings a grunt from Raga's lips, a sound only Paz would pick up on, but it doesn't make her slow down. She repays it with three quick punches to the attacker's stomach, spins around and slams her elbow into the dazed face.

One left.  
The idiot tries to make a run for the exit.  
He never makes it.

Silence then fills the bar. Silence except for Raga's sharp breathing and she stands alone among the wreckage. She doesn't need Paz' help against some idiots in a bar. Paz knows that. He simply loves to watch her do her thing. She is **brutal**.

Paz' finger pauses, taps lightly on the edge of the glass and then, finally he gets up from his chair. The show is over.

The bar-owner scuttles away when Paz grabs his laser cannon, hoists it up and on his back, attaches it there and he walks over to Raga. “ _Ready to go?_ ” He asks in Mando'a.

Raga looks around at the mess and when her hand flies out to grab a hold of the front of Paz' breastplate, he actually flinches a little. But all she does is drag him along towards the exit.

Realizing she clearly has more energy to burn and what this means for him if he wants it, Paz feels liquid heat sliding through his veins, down, down, swirling, almost making him light-headed.  
He loves this about her too. So much. He loves everything about her, really. Always have.  
“ _Marry me._ ” Paz begs.

Raga snorts, not looking back at him, merely dragging him along towards their room. “ _We're already married, you idiot._ ”

“ _Marry me again._ ” Paz says. He still can't wrap his head around the fact that she had said yes back then. That she had said yes to 'him'. So many years, he didn't think it was possible.

“ _Okay._ ”

Paz can't help but to grin like an idiot. And even more so when she yanks him inside the room. He's already planning on where to propose to her for the third time.

\- - -

**Such a mess!**

Mokae looks at Raga cleaning her blaster by the dining table, oily and grease soaked rags scattered all around her, while Liita, the oil and grease covered creature she is, sits next to her with what he is pretty sure is Paz' jetpack and a minefield of tools are spread all over the floor, and he sighs.

By one of the smaller tables, Leave-it is shoveling food into his mouth while trying to tell Zev'sonya how pretty she looks this morning. That of course ends with the Twi'lek rolling her eyes and walking out of the room, which then leads to Leave-it scrambling to follow her and leaves, as usual, his plate and cup behind. Mokae picks them up and sighs again. 'Leave it' indeed!

Walking down towards the kitchen, aiming to at least remove Leave-it's mess, Mokae walks by the medical room and sees Hauroko has been doing some rearranging again and things are scattered all over the place. He clenches his jaw and walks a little faster so not to see the mess.  
On his way, he gives the passing Kiergan a nod, trying to forget how the man had left a trail of muddy bootprints over at least two floors yesterday after he and Corin had gone for a run.

Mokae enters the kitchen and feels jab of annoyance towards said Corin at the sight that meets him. The man means well, he's one of the few who do try to clean up after himself, but he has the attention span of a space gnat and always forgets to shove the chairs back in under the table after having breakfast with his son. The son, who has a very bad habit of leaving candy wrappers everywhere. Everywhere! Even in places he theoretically shouldn't be able to go.  
And then there's Din, who never ever can wipe off the counter after he's prepared food there. Augh!

Lost in irritation, Mokae barely notes Mose's presence in the kitchen and fails entirely to see the other one present there before he almost walks directly into him. Slowly lifting his gaze up the blue armor, Mokae blinks as he finds Paz' t-visor glaring back at him. For a second, they merely stare at each other, then there is a drawn-out _crrrrunching_ sound that Mokae figures is either Paz having helped himself to those nuts Jana had brought back from the village yesterday or him chewing on some finger bones from the last person who annoyed him. Either option is equally plausible in Mokae's eyes. 

But he decides not to mention that those treats were meant for everyone and not just Paz, snacks have a habit of vanishing when he's around, so he just lowers his gaze and moves gingerly by the Mandalorian to place Leave-it's plate and cup in the sink.

A shuffling sound makes Mokae glance back over his shoulder and he sees Mose is making his way towards the door, done eating. Mokae is a little surprised to see Junior is actually out and about this morning and smiles a little at her pouncing on the end of Mose's tail, holding on tight with both arms, giggling as she's dragged along.

It's only after the Hutts have left that Mokae sees the globs of drool left behind in several places.  
Mokae stops smiling. Ew.

Turning back to the sink, with several plates, knives and cups abandoned by the ones who had used them, Mokae sighs. And turns the water on.

(Paz makes a discrete escape in the background, clearly dreading getting recruited and having to get his hands wet.)

It is Kinnon's turn to do laundry today, which means Mokae will have to do them again tonight. Either that woman has no idea how to do it or she just can't be bothered to do it right.  
Cordé is on kitchen duty, which means Mokae needs to be nearby with water in case she sets something of fire again. That woman stresses so much that she causes endless trouble for herself.  
Jana talked about doing another supply run, but Mokae suspects that is just so she can get out of helping out with the chores. She always places the plates and cups in the wrong cabinets anyway.

Mokae starts scrubbing plates with an annoyed grunt.  
These people are as clean and helpful as Mudhorns! He has no idea why he bothers. They could probably be living with filth up to the ears and not notice. Mokae would just like to have things neat and clean and quiet. Is that too much to ask? Brutes and ingrates, the lot of them!

“Hey...” A quiet voice says next to him. “Need a hand...?”

Mokae glances over and sees young Heiden standing there. Anxious and uncertain, as always, but who never leaves a mess and will help clean up after the other ruffians. “Nah, it's cool. I got this.”

Heiden shrugs and takes up position next to him. “It'll be faster with two.”

Mokae turns back to his task at hand, smiles a little. “Roger that.”

At least there is one person there is hope for in the castle. Maybe two, if Corin can remember those chairs.

The rest? Definitely a lost cause!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paz Vizla meets Corin Valentis for the very first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Paz and Corin's first meeting in F&H, through the eyes of Paz.

It's been over ten years, over a decade, since Paz stood watch over his teacher's bloodied and cold body. So many years filled with unsolved rage and grief.  
And now that clever little troll Barthor has gotten them a lead. After all this time. Paz has no idea how he discovered this information but he knows Barthor has not forgotten Devarax either and he trusts his word.  
If this rich bastard has the helmet, Paz and Raga will rip him to pieces and reclaim what is theirs.

[](https://imgbb.com/)  
-  
_Heartbreaking art, the aftermath of the death of Davarax, by the art deity cac0daemonia!_

Lost in the promise of vengeance and violence, of some kind of justice for their teacher, Paz fails to notice them before Raga slaps his breastplate and points.

That's Din! Right next to this dust-hole of a town on this random planet. Like a blessing sent from Mandalor himself. For the first time in a long time, Paz feels hopeful. And... even a little happy.  
Grinning, he slaps Raga's pauldron and marches towards Din with her trailing after him and curiosity peaks when he realizes that Din is not alone. There is the infamous child in his arms but also a random human man by his side. Typical Din to pick up strays. What is that new guy wearing?

“There you are, troublemaker!” Paz says.

“Paz.” Din mutters a greeting, clearly not happy to see him. He graces Raga with a nod. “Raga.”

Fine. If Din's gonna be a shit, then that's how they're gonna do this. “I was hoping you were dead.” Paz says with a heavy sigh of mock-disappointment. He shifts his focus over at the guy next to Din, realizing he's wearing Din's old armor, which is weird, but then does a double-take as he registers the shiny Beskar pauldron on the man's shoulder. 

Wait, what?! Din's engaged? To some outsider?

It's hard to say which part is most startling; the fact that Din is capable of falling in love or that he chose a kriffing outsider that none of them have met before.  
Paz steps over to get a better look at this man, who stares wide-eyed up at him but stands his ground. Hmm...

He's pretty. Usually that's not a word Paz would use for a man, but there is no denying that this guy is pretty. Thinking back on Din's former dallies, Paz knows Din has a sweet tooth for the pretty but this one is lacking the mean Din usually attracts. He has the body to be mean, muscular and of decent height, but those big blue eyes staring up at Paz are anything but mean. This guy seems... weak and Paz' hackles rise.  
Din can't have someone weak. Din needs someone strong to look after him and protect him.

Paz takes a step forward, using his height and size to loom over the pretty one. “You look scared, little one.” If Din can't see that this is a mistake, then Paz will correct it for him. He reaches out to touch the Beskar pauldron and means to ask Din if he's lost his mind...

It happens so fast, too fast for Paz to really see how it happens. One moment the man is staring up at him with big eyes, then the eyes suddenly narrow and the man has a vibroblade in a tight reverse-grip against Paz' throat in a way that says he has killed before and he will not hesitate to cut him.

Paz hears Raga give a soft snort of amusement behind him and he can't help a slight grin on his own face. 

Well, well, well... Maybe not just pretty then? Maybe there is more to this guy than just his looks?

Looking over at Din, letting him hear the grin in his voice, Paz asks for confirmation; “ _Your sweetheart?_ ”

To make matters even more interesting, Din glares over at Paz and doesn't reply. Din is incredibly tense. He's almost sweating through his helmet. What is going on?  
Wait.  
They're not engaged? Din has a crush, has given the guy Beskar and not told him how he feels? Oh, this is too good! This is the perfect opportunity to get back at Din for a million things.

Paz can't help the booming laugh that escapes him and he steps back to give the man space as well as to avoid the blade to his throat. “Come.” He gestures towards the town, eager to discover more. “Allow us to buy you some food, outsider. We have much to talk about.”

He can almost hear Din grit his teeth so hard they creak.

-

Paz buys the man, who introduces himself as Corin, the biggest bowl of food they have, knowing information spills easier when the subject of interrogation is relaxed and most people relax when they are eating.

Raga steps up next to Paz as he is about to pick up the bowl and carry it over to the table where Din and his two wards are waiting. She places an elbow on the counter and points at the shelf behind the innkeeper. “And that one. We'll take that one too.”

Paz sees the bottle of Mando Papuur'gal and marvels at her evil genius. This is why he loves this woman. This is why he will go to his grave loving this perfect being.“Yeah. We'll take that bottle too.”

They bring their loot back to the table and take their seats.

“So tell me,” Pazy says, pouring wine into Corin's glass, “how did you meet our nuisance here?” After Davarax' death, Din had mingled with a lot of bad souls for a long time, but these days he prefers to travel alone. However did he end up with and fall for this outsider?

“He, uhm,” Corin reaches for the glass and takes a big gulp, too trusting for his own good, “he saved my life.”  
To his credit, there isn't a twitch on the pretty face despite the strong taste.

“And what did that cost you?” Raga asks, taking the decanter and refilling the glass in a smooth motion. Her voice is innocent. Too innocent. It is a delight to hear. Especially as Corin appears completely oblivious and Din is now tense enough to go through the ceiling without a jetpack.

“I help out. With the kid. With the ship, some times.” Corin replies like a good boy, fixated on the food, just like the child. They have the same horrible way of inhaling their food like they're afraid someone will take it away from them. 

Corin keeps eagerly reaching for the wine. Din tries to warn him about how strong the liquid is, as most Mandalorian things are, but in vain.

“He can handle it.” Paz drawls, feeling Din's fierce glare and savoring the heat of it. “He's a warrior.” He refills Corin's glass even though he's barely taken a gulp or two since last refill. “What else do you... help out with?”

The innuendo makes Din tense up even more. Paz is amazed he hasn't drawn his blaster on him yet. Clearly this outsider has Din on his very best behavior, hoping Corin won't find out about the Beskar. This is just becoming more and more interesting. And hilarious.

But now Corin seems to be catching on that he's being interrogated as he looks from one to the other. He wobbles between confusion and suspicion. Clearly no stranger to danger. “Weapons...”

“Weapons.” Raga echoes, clearly amused. “Is that why he gave you the Beskar?”

In the background, Din twitches.

Like before, Corin becomes very defensive when the pauldron is involved. He frowns and looks ready to defend it once again. He even sounds defiant. “I earned it.”

Raga nods sagely. “I'm sure you did.”

Paz closes his eyes and bites down on a laugh. Once again reminded why he could love no other.

“What about the Covert?” Din asks in a shrill voice, desperate to change the subject and keep his crush hidden. “Is it safe? Where are they?”

Lucky for Din, this is the one topic that works to derail their attention from Corin and their relationship. Paz can't wait to tell him what Barthor has discovered. He looks over at Raga, she looks at him, and they both turn to tell Din that Davarax' helmet may be discovered.

Din reacts the same way Paz had; disbelief and a craving for blood. He wants vengeance as much as Paz and Raga does. It's slightly reassuring, after the shock of finding Din basically engaged to a stranger, to see he is still himself at his core. There is still the Din that Paz remembers in there.  
They tell him what they have been told. They know the name of the man who is supposed to have the helmet, but they don't have his location specified beyond this area.

They talk for a long while, uninterrupted, until Din leans back with a sigh and points out that the sleeping child in his arms needs to go to bed. And, Paz is willing to bet, the same goes for the clearly drunk pretty man too. Corin's face is flatteringly flustered, there is a shy smile on his lips and he is swaying gently there he sits as if the floor itself was moving.  
Deciding to take pity on the guy, who had held up rather well under questioning, Paz declares they should retire for the night and continue tomorrow.

Raga has secured a room for them and looking inside, Paz is relieved to find it both clean and tidy. One never knows what awaits you at some of these inns. The two beds in the room look big and sturdy, which he likes even more. He hates it when he has to curl up or hold his breath half the night in case it might collapse.  
Before getting into bed, Paz decides to go over and order Din to check out the west side of the town tomorrow while he and Raga deals with the east side. They will hunt down the rich guy eventually but this way they can cover ground a lot faster. Vengeance has waited long enough, Paz wants the guy dead yesterday.

Marching down the hallway, Paz slaps the button and the door slides open. “”You need to... Ah.”

[](https://imgbb.com/)  
-  
_Hilarious art, Paz walking in on a rather interesting situation, by the art deity cac0daemonia!_

Din is on his back on the bed, fully clothed, but with a snickering, half-naked Corin cradled between his thighs. And Din is clearly not pleased with the interruption judging by the tense posture he's holding. Which, fair enough, Paz can respect.

Chuckling, Paz backs up. “Fine. We'll talk tomorrow.”

As he walks away and the door closes behind him, he hears Din groaning. Well, definitely not wasting time then. And not a one-sided crush then. Maybe Corin just doesn't want to get married?

“We're going to have to discuss plans tomorrow.” Paz shouts down the hallway for Raga, Din, and the rest of the inn, to hear. “They're too busy banging right now.”  
By the time he enters their room, Raga is still snickering and he expects Din is furious.

However, fate must be siding with Din that night as Paz gets his punishment not long after. The bed is big and comfortable, especially with the cannon, jetpack, belt and vambraces off, but just as he's drifting off to sleep he hears Raga getting up.

“It's cold.” She grumbles. “Scoot over.”

Sighing, Paz shifts over and makes room for her. He's not surprised. They often share a bed, have done so since they were teenagers, now mostly when Raga deems it too cold or unsafe.  
He holds the blanket up so she can climb in next to him, only years of experience making the armor feel natural, and he lowers it to cover them both when she's settled.

A few seconds pass and Paz is drifting off again when he gets a punch to his ribs.

“I said,” Raga grumbles, “it's cold.”

Paz hoists himself up on his side with a grunt, his front now against her side as she's still lying on her back, and he slides his arm across her midsection to tug and hold her close.

She makes a half-pleased sound, but reaches down to grab his thigh and guides his leg over hers before she's content, determined to leech on his body warmth as much as possible.

Paz swallows hard and uses years of experience to push away any reaction to her proximity. This is about trust and the cold. And it feels so good to just be allowed to hold her, it is enough.

And yet, at the back of Paz' brain, there is just no denying how unfair it feels to have her so close and know he'll never have her heart while Din, two or three rooms down the hallway, is just about engaged and is currently being railed by his beloved like there is no tomorrow. Definitely not fair.

-

Paz and Raga searches the east side of the town for any scrap of information about the rich guy, but other than a few vague rumors, they find nothing and eventually they are forced to return to the inn. Or, that is the plan, but outside of the building they are met with the sight of Corin working out.  
Din is nowhere to be found, probably hunting down the rich guy on the west side, which leaves his sweetheart unprotected from all kinds of danger. Like their curiosity.

Paz and Raga exchange looks, he can feel her smirk mirroring his own, and they wander over to keep him company. And maybe learn a little more about this guy who has ensnared their Din.

Corin is a little pale, compliments of the wine probably, but strangely enough he seems happy to see them and pleasantly surprised that they want to stick around. The pretty face has clearly not made him arrogant, which is good. He gives them a bright smile while Raga sits down on the ground and Paz crosses his arms and leans against a tree next to where Corin starts doing push-ups with ease.

“You look hot.” Raga observes, and it sounds like she is very pleased with the view. “Very hot. Maybe you should take off that shirt before you get a heat stroke?”

Paz is about to laugh at her statement, such an obvious and bad effort to make the guy strip, but chokes on air when Corin merely gets up and wrings off said shirt with ease and confidence. And, yeah, from what Paz can see; he's got nothing to be ashamed about.  
Corin seem a little bewildered about what to do with his shirt, so Paz holds out a hand.

After throwing him the shirt, Corin jumps up and grabs a hold of a branch on the tree to start doing pull ups. “So why are you guys doing here?” He adjusts his grip a little. “If it's not a secret or anything.”

“We're here on a mission.” Paz replies a little absently. Corin is no stranger to working out, Paz can tell, and not just because he has a fit body but because he has good technique. However, what Corin is about to do now is not good. Paz knows from experience and his inner teacher snaps to attention. “You should have a better angle or you could injure yourself.”

He ends up having to show him, grabs Corin's hip and places a hand flat against his stomach to make him keep the correct pose. It is Raga's soft huff of laughter that makes Paz realize what he's doing, how it looks, and he must have spent too much time with Barthor... He taps a thoughtful finger to Corin's abs. “And if it gets too warm, you can always drop this, you know?”

A soft coo from behind them draws their attention and Paz can feel Din's rage before he even turns around and sees him standing there with the child in his arms.

Din is fuming. He is shaking with quiet rage and the urge to rip Corin away from Paz' touch.

Whoa. Din has _never_ been possessive before. He's never cared before. The possibilities of tormenting Din with this are endless. It makes Paz almost giddy with joy.

Corin drops down to stand next to Paz. “Everything okay?”

“It's fine.” Din grits out, stalking over to rip the shirt out of Paz' hands and gives it to Corin before turning to look up at Paz again. “I found the information you wanted. We need to talk.”

Instantly focused on their mission, heart racing with the possibility of getting revenge, Paz nods. “Let's go.”

Din has found their target. He's hiding on a small island, a fortress, behind thick walls and mercenaries. But nothing will save him.  
Vengeance is coming.

-

Paz is a little surprised that Din allows Corin to come with them, but it also underlines what he is starting to realize; Din trusts him as much as he loves him. That is truly a first!

As they only have two jetpacks, they have to double up to get to the island.  
“I'll take this one.” Paz declares, wraps an arm around Corin and takes off in a hurry before anyone can object. He decides to make it a little exciting for Din's beloved.

“You guys are INSANE!” Corin yells, his fingers digging for a hold and body tense as Beskar.

Paz laughs and takes care to do some extra acrobatics to really rattle the guy and test his mettle.

Raga and Din soon catches up with them and things are going well. A little too well.  
Rain starts to really pour down. Lightning flashes and thunder rolls, and then it doesn't take too long before the first blaster shots come their way.

Paz manages to dodge the shots, completely focused on his mission to get himself and Corin to their destination, and he doesn't hear it happening, he only sees it when it is too late. Fear hits hard.

Raga's jetpack has taken a hit and is malfunctioning, throwing her around like a ragdoll and she's holding on to Din's wrist with both hands so not to drop him into the foaming ocean beneath.  
If either one of them goes into that darkness, they won't come back up. Mandalorian armor is not made for swimming. It has always been Paz' biggest fear and now he's staring at two of the people most important to him in danger of drowning and there is nothing he can do as long as he's holding Corin.

“Do something!” Corin shouts through the rain and the wind and the blaster shots.

“I can't!” Paz shouts back, agonized, forced to dodge a blaster shot. “I can't carry all three! The pack won't be able to carry that kind of weight!” There is no place for him to land and there is no way he's just letting go of Corin. None. He's Din's man and innocent. He had come along to help them. Paz has to get Corin to the island and hope they can stay in the air until he can return for them...

Din slips lower as Raga's left arm goes out to the side for balance as she struggles to keep the jetpack from spinning them around. She must be holding on to Din by pure force of will until she manages to swing her hand back down and grab a hold of Din's wrist again with both hands.  
Din is simply focused on shooting back at the island, ignoring Raga's struggle and his own peril.

Corin starts squirming in Paz' arms, wiggles and twists, and suddenly he has turned around to place his hands against Paz' chest. “Help.” He gets his feet up against Paz' knees. “Them!”

It's so unexpected, if Paz had expected it maybe he could have held on, but instead he's shocked to feel Corin push and kick himself backwards with such force that he breaks Paz' grip on him and drops like a stone towards the raging ocean.

“CORIN!” Paz shouts, automatically reaching out to grab him and turns to dive after him but it is futile. Half a second later, Corin is just gone, hidden by the rain and the frothing darkness below.  
Paz uses his helmet to scan frantically for lifesigns and sees none, before Raga's pained grunt catches his attention and he decides to not let Corin's stunt be for nothing.

Paz flies over, grabs Din with his left arm and gets Raga with his right, spins and sets course for the island that is so close and yet feels like it is miles away. His jetpack is struggling, but Raga's is functional enough to help keep them in the air and moving.

“Where is Corin?” Din shouts as they race towards the island, confused and uneasy, still ignoring the blaster shots trying to kill them all, absently firing back.

Paz doesn't know how to answer that.

“WHERE IS HE?” Din's voice is laced with fear and urgency.

Reaching the island, Paz drops them to land rather roughly and merely twists mid-air to go back to where he'd lost sight of the crazy outsider.  
He hears Din continuing to shout that question through the loud rain, but what is Paz supposed to say? 'Gone?'  
Corin had been his responsibility and Paz had failed him. Corin had come to help Paz avenge his teacher and Paz had let him fall to his death.

Why had Corin done that? Why would anyone do that? He had to have known the armor he was wearing would leave him incapable of swimming as well? He hadn't even hesitated. He just told Paz to help them and let himself fall as if he didn't care what happened to himself at all.

Scanning the ocean and the surroundings, ignoring the battle going on at the island and the horrible weather, Paz continues frantically searching for any sign of Corin.

Why? Why would he do this? Why hadn't Paz reacted faster and held on tighter? 

It is just darkness, water above and below, there are no signs of anything. Nothing living and nothing dead. Just a lot of nothingness. 

Suddenly there is a blaster fired nearby, too close for it to be anyone on the island, and Paz turns and sees to his amazement, clinging to a pointy reef, shivering and miserable; Corin.  
Hurrying over, Paz lowers himself next to him. “You're alive.”

Corin coughs and nods, giving him a thumbs up.

Relief washes over Paz and he shakes his head with a disbelieving huff. “You do not get to call us insane ever again.” Yeah, this one is definitely not weak.  
Laughing through another cough, Corin lets Paz wrap his arms around him and lift him up into the air.

-

They clean out the island, they take down the henchmen and find that rich monster with his trophies on the wall.  
Paz, Raga and Din all fire at the man, enraged at the sight of Davarax' helmet amidst all kinds of creature heads. 

Gingerly lowering the helmet, tears filling his eyes, Paz leans down and gently places his forehead to the smooth surface.  
- _I'm sorry it took so long_ , Paz speaks in his heart. - _I'm so sorry. But you're coming home now._  
He gives the helmet to Raga, who does the same, and finally Din.

Corin keeps a respectful distance and remains silent.  
He even excuses himself to his and Din's room when the three of them decides to have a night of remembrance for Davarax. They drink and talk and remember. They laugh and cry over the memories, and rages at the injustice of losing him.

As much as Paz loves his father, he had mourned Davarax like one. Davarax was the one Paz could talk to, who helped him when things got difficult and the anger got the better of him. When Paz was scared or felt alone or any such thing that he could never tell his father, Davarax was there for him.  
It is a bittersweet evening.

Paz sighs as he watches Din wobble off to rejoin his fiance upstairs and can't decide whether he feels jealous or happy. Both. Yeah, definitely both. He wants what Din has found, but he's also happy that Din has found it. He very carefully does not look at Raga. He's too drunk to dare that.

[](https://imgbb.com/)  
-  
_Adorable art, a polaroid pic of Paz finally daring to express himself to Raga, by the art deity cac0daemonia!_

And after today, well, anyone who has an issue with Corin, Paz will deal with them.  
Usually it takes a lot for Paz to thaw up to someone, even more for him to like them, but there is something about this seemingly soft man who has a spine of Beskar, courage like a Mandalorian, and is willing to sacrifice himself for others without hesitation or thought for himself. He is pretty, yes, but he is not weak. When Paz is wrong, he's not afraid to admit it.

The next day, Paz and Raga return to the island and pick through stuff they can bring back to the Covert. When he finds some Beskar armor, Paz airs his idea to Raga.  
She agrees, of course.  
It is a nice salute to Corin, showing their approval, plus a glorious way to give Din a minor heart attack.

“We are leaving.” Paz informs Corin when he joins him, Din and Raga outside the inn. “We have fulfilled our mission and must return to the Covert. We'll inform them that you aided us.”

Corin blinks. “I didn't... do much, but thank you.” He appears to have forgotten how he'd kept their backs safe on the island, a task only given to someone they can trust, merely struggles to hold on to the child who seems set on being handed over to Paz. “Safe journey back home.”

“You remember to keep that back straight.” Paz reminds him, then looks over at Din. “And don't be too surprised if this fool gets himself killed.” Din clenching his fist in response to that has Paz rumbling a laugh before he turns his focus towards the child, reaches out a finger to let it grab a hold. “Be safe, _little one_.” He glances up at Corin and speaks in Mando'a just to annoy Din: “ _Goodbye, Din's sweetheart_.”

Predictably the phrase makes Din draw back his fist to punch him, but by then Paz is already up in the air thanks to his jet pack and hovers above his reach.

Raga takes a step forward and holds out a small bundle. “We will bring the helmet home. We also went back to bring what we can of riches to the Covert. For the Foundlings. But this is for you.” 

Din looks over at Corin, who awkwardly hoists the child over on one arm and uses the other to accept her gift. “Thanks.”

Raga takes a step back, nods at them, then she activates her jet pack and sets course for home. Paz gives them a final salute and then follows.  
Din will be fine. Paz has a good feeling about this. Corin is a strong, honest and brave partner. They will be good fathers for the little child.

There are few people Paz likes and even fewer he trusts, but he definitely likes and decides he can trust this one.

-  
-

Paz hates the Empire with every bone in his body. He can't believe something that is supposed to be dead can cause so much death and destruction.  
They were the cause of the Great Purge, and now they are here on Nevarro, trying to kill the rest of the Mandalorians and driving them out of their underground home.

Amidst the fighting, Paz can't close his eyes without seeing the shuttles with several Foundlings exploding as they are shot down while trying to flee Nevarro. He can't shake the horror of holding Raga as she bleeds out in the darkness of the sewer and knowing he can't save her. He is haunted by every dead Mandalorian body he has to step over in battle. He wants to kill every Imperial soldier there with his own two hands.

[](https://ibb.co/mzcvyCv)  
-  
_Goosebump inducing art, Paz breaking down as Raga is dying, by the art deity cac0daemonia!_

Din and Corin appearing with the magic wielding child is such a welcome sight. They can't save everyone, but the child can save Raga. And with Din and Corin, they can also save the twins.  
The Empire has taken enough from his Covert. They don't get to take the twins too.

Paz has a moment of triumph, of hope, when the mission is successful and Raga contacts him over the comlink to tell him she and Corin have the twins and will bring them to safety. He gets that one moment before the ugly truth is revealed.

Corin is a Storm Trooper.

Paz' initial reaction is shock. He refuses to believe it. There is no way that Corin could be a Storm Trooper. He's nothing like those cowardly child-murdering monsters. And Paz would have known. Right? He would have sensed it.

Wrong.

Corin had tricked him. Paz, like an _idiot_ , had trusted him despite years of experience telling him to always be suspicious of outsiders. Somehow Corin had snuck under his radar and made Paz like him. How could Paz have been this stupid? But maybe that is what made Corin a good Storm Trooper? Appear kind and stab people in the back.

Nevarro's ground is soaked with Mandalorian blood and the souls of the Foundlings on the lost shuttles still lingers in the air, so Paz watches with seething hurt and rage as Din guides Corin on board the shuttle that will bring them to the Covert.

Corin will enter their Covert over Paz' dead body.

Paz will never trust Corin again!

-

Or so he thought...

[](https://ibb.co/1zkXZxq)  
-  
_Future happy times, where even Paz allows himself to enjoy the moment, by the art deity cac0daemonia!_


	5. Chapter 5

**Story time**

“What are you up to?” Din asks as he steps into the bedroom.

Corin is sitting crosslegged in the middle of the bed with a datapad in his hands. This way he can keep an eye on the child playing on the floor but also sit rather comfortably while reading. “Learning.” He replies, glancing over at the Mandalorian. “All done?”

Din nods. The kitchen had looked like a bomb site after Din decided he and the child simply had to make some cookies that evening. “Yeah. It looked worse than it was.” He steps over to the bed, climbs in and crawls over to sit behind Corin, looking over his shoulder. “What are you reading?”

Leaning back against him, smiling a little, Corin scrolls down the page. “Mandalore The First.”  
Learning Mando'a isn't enough, Corin needs to know more. For Din. Corin has to understand the Mandalorian culture to be able to show it proper respect.

Din makes a tiny sound of surprise before he inches closer, even dares to place a couple of fingers to Corin's hip. “Is that so?”

The smile on his face widening a fraction, Corin makes a confirming hum. “Quite the interesting character. Taking on the Mythosaurs and all that.”

There is a slight tug on the sheets and they both look over as the child climbs up on to the bed and shuffles over to join them with a cheerful coo.

“Done playing?” Corin asks, putting the datapad aside and allows the child to occupy his lap instead.  
The child looks up at him, tilts his head and chirps.

Din reaches out and runs a gentle hand over the fuzzy head and ears. “So, you've read about Te Sol'yc Mand'alor. But have you two heard about Mandalore the Conqueror?”

“No, we have not.” Corin replies cheerfully, adjusting the child to rest comfortably against his legs and squirms a little himself to get really comfortable and settle against Din. “How about you tell us?”

“A long, long time ago...”

He can 'feel' the smile in Din's voice as he speaks, he can feel the child take and hold on to his index finger while listening with rapt fascination, and it makes Corin feel like the luckiest man in the Galaxy. This is what love feels like. This is what family feels like. This is what home feels like.

“...there lived a Mandalore known as Mandalore the Conqueror.”

\- - -

**The Art of Flirting**

Corin doesn't really know how to flirt. He knows the technical term, that some are very good at it, but he's never had the skill. Usually others had approached him, not the other way around. Until now, Corin has never found anyone interesting enough to make him want to put in the effort.  
So now he's in a relationship (which is still mind-boggling to him) and Corin has no idea how to flirt with his partner.

This becomes painfully apparent to him one day as he's lounging in a chair in one of the common rooms with Leave-it and Zev'sonya at opposite sides of the newly acquired sofa, each with a datapad in their hands. Clearly Zev'sonya is in an exceptionally good mood as there is no trace of the usual frown on her face and at one point, she actually reaches over and lightly prods at the blond's thigh with the tip of her boot.

When Leave-it glances up from his screen and over at her, she quickly acts like she had never moved at all and stares intently at her own screen. Leave-it watches her for a few seconds, curious, but eventually returns to stare at his datapad.  
She does it again. He looks up faster. She acts innocent even quicker.

The concept of a playful Zev'sonya is as unsettling to Leave-it as it is to Corin and the blond seems hesitant to push his luck and slowly turns his attention back to the screen yet again.

Corin lifts his eyebrows when he sees Zev'sonya grinning when her prodding Leave-it gets no reaction so she starts sliding her foot up and down his thigh.

In a flash, Leave-it grabs her ankle, holds her leg there, before looking over at her with an increasingly confident look on his face. “You want something from me?”

Zev'sonya doesn't flinch, merely tilts her head and maintains both eye-contact and her scary smile. “I don't know.” She pulls her leg free with a sharp movement, but there is no anger or disapproval in her face, just a challenge. “Can you deliver?”

Corin is wondering if he can sneak out of the room without them noticing him, it is pretty clear they've forgotten all about his presence and this is getting awkward, but then Leave-it reaches out to grab Zev'sonya and she jumps up on her feet to dodge him.  
She tries to make a run for the door, but Leave-it is incredibly fast. He vaults himself over the back of the sofa, gets between her and the exit, and hoists her over his shoulder while she makes an almost ladylike squeak of surprise.

Corin expects her to get angry, maybe even lash out, but to his surprise she just cackles and lets him carry her out of the room. Huh. Okay. Flirting, such a weird mystery to him.

And same goes when Raga joins him and Paz during a morning work-out and just hovers for a while before she ends up sparring with her riduur.  
Paz wants to show Corin some of the tricks he's been trying to teach him, but Raga doesn't really cooperate and at one point she even flips Paz over her hip and slams his back against the floor.

Wide-eyed, Corin takes a step forward to ask if he's okay and offer him a hand up, but then Paz sweeps out his leg and sends Raga tumbling to the floor next to him. This is bound to end in a fight, right? Corin feels his stomach tighten anxiously and he's looking for some way to defuse the situation when he hears both Mandalorians, just lying on the floor, break out into a shared laugh.

Paz gets up, offers Raga a hand, which she takes, and pulls her up on her feet. She uses her grip on his hand to shove him against the wall, hard enough so it echoes through the room, and their armor clink as she pins him there with her own body.

Corin glances around, a little awkwardly, getting the feeling that this isn't the angry kind of fighting, and considers just trying to sneak his way out of the room.  
Raga says something in Mando'a that Corin doesn't understand. His brain translates it into 'one more', which doesn't make sense, so he must have gotten some words mixed up.

“Corin.” Paz rumbles, not turning his t-visor away from Raga.

Corin straightens his spine. “Yes, sir?”

“Get out.”

“Yes, sir.” He doesn't hesitate to obey. But as Corin flees, he is yet again reminded how terrible he is at flirting. He had no idea that was going on in that training room. He needs to get better at this flirting thing. For Din.

That very evening Corin ends up having to take a shower after the little bean spits all over his shirt after trying a new orange and purple fruit that he clearly did not like. And after, Corin discovers he'd managed to throw that stained shirt on top of his night shirt. Great. Here he is worried about his flirting skills when he's a mess with no clean shirts. That means laundry tomorrow.

Pulling on his loose sleeping pants, he needs to get new ones as these keep sliding down his hips, Corin towels his hair dry for a little while before entering the bed room. He can go one night without a shirt, the air is warm and Din will be there if he needs extra warmth.

Speaking of which, Din is lying on the bed, sans armor, and his t-visor turns to lock on Corin when he steps into the room.

“Everything go okay?” Corin asks as he draws his hands through his semi-wet hair, knowing the child is just a couple of doors away with Mose and Junior and yet can't prevent himself from asking.

Din nods, but doesn't speak. Strange.

Now worried about Din, Corin walks over and sits down next to him on the edge of the bed. “You okay?”

Din nods again. But he seems tense?

Corin places a reassuring hand on Din's thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. “You sure, ner kar'ta?”

This time, Din's nod is barely visible.

Corin gently runs his hand over the soft fabric across the tense muscle there. He's not entirely convinced, Din seems too tense for everything to be okay, but he doesn't seem angry or scared so it can't be too serious. Which means he will just have to wait for Din to tell him in his own time. Corin trusts him.  
Getting up, Corin walks over to crawl into bed from the other side and settles next to Din, who exhales a long, very slow and controlled breath.

So, yeah, flirting... Maybe Corin can ask Leave-it for some advice? Or Kiergan? Surely someone in this castle can help him tease Din a little?

\- - -

**The gift**

It's early. It's still dark outside when Corin opens his eyes and forces himself to stay awake. He's tired but there can be no more sleep for him.

Unlike Din, who is currently a comatose heat-bottle against Corin's back. It seems the previous day had been quite exhausting for him.  
A quick look over at the crib reveals an ear poking up from the pillow and Corin concludes the weariness includes their son as well.  
Celebrating Snow-Andai had taken a lot out of them.

Corin had never heard of Snow-Andai before, had no idea the people in the neighboring village celebrated it, but when he, Din and the child stopped by to pick up supplies, they were quickly invited and included in the festivities.  
Din was a little wary, but Corin saw no harm in letting the child have some fun and also pounce on the opportunity to try some of those baked goods the villagers were offering.

Corin learned how Snow-Andai was to celebrate the Snow Spirit of the planet and all the rituals that followed. It was fascinating but he was also humbly delighted at being allowed to be a part of something so important to them.

It also meant an abundance of amazing food and treats. Corin and the child were the first to over-eat, the little bean devouring incredible amounts, but Corin also made sure to hoard several sweet treats for Din to eat later once they were back at the cabin.  
Clearly the experience had left Din not only tired but in an exceptionally good mood too, as he agreed to eat his treats in their room while Corin kept t he child entertained. and the Mandalorian even shed his Beskar before getting into bed when it was time to retire for the day.

It had been such a wonderful experience that the memories brings a smile to Corin's face. He feels warm, safe and loved here, next to this wonderful man and close to the most adorable child in the Galaxy.

- _For every treat you eat, you got to take twenty sit-ups_. The voice of Corin's father whispers at the back of his mind, pointing out everything he'd eaten yesterday.

Right. Yeah. That's why he was awake at this hour. Time to work off his sins. He could do laps on his skates and then, when it was a little more light, he could head up into the mountains and push himself there for a couple of hours.  
Corin gingerly eases himself away from Din and is about to sit-up and tip-toe out of the room, but suddenly Din's arm slides around his waist and Corin is pulled back against him.  
“Din...” Corin says, quietly so not to wake the child. “I was just going outside for a bit to-”

“No.” Din mumbles groggily, sounding like his eyes aren't even open. “Stay here with me?”

It's tempting. It is oh so tempting. Corin trails his fingers over the back of Din's hand until his fingers slide between his and he braids them together. “I should head out. Work off some of those cookies...”

“No.” Din repeats, hugging him closer with a satisfied sound. “No, you should stay here with me.”

Corin grins, feeling stupidly flattered. “Din...”

“First day of Snow-Andai is the day of gift-giving. You need to be rested to open the gift I got you later. One for you, one for the kid.” Din yawns and settles again.

“Gift? We're giving gifts?” Corin has a moment of alarm. Din had never said he wanted to do the full seven and a half days of Snow-Andai rituals. “I didn't get you any gifts. I have to-”

“The gift to the kid is from the both of us.” Din mumbles sleepily, drawing a lazy thumb over skin where Corin's sleeveless shirt has ridden up. “And my gift? Don't go. Stay here with me. Close your eyes. Sleep.”

“But...”

Din hugs him tight, sighs with satisfaction and eases his grip a little. “Stay with me.”

- _Forever_. Corin thinks. Out loud he says; “Okay.”

And while the notion that him staying in bed with Din could be considered a gift is ridiculous, Corin still can't help the faint smile on his lips and the feeling of utter happiness.  
He feels warm, safe and loved here, next to this wonderful man and close to the most adorable child in the Galaxy.

Corin stays.

And Macero Valentis goes quiet.

\- - -

**Hello**

Hode sighs and tries to pay attention as Macero Valentis goes on and on about current numbers and expected numbers. The Empire is running smoothly, some small rebellions aside, and yet the man acts as if everything would fall apart at any moment if they don't make sure all the numbers go up.  
Of course Hode has his numbers prepared, he'd be a fool not to as the Major Commander had shown him great honour by inviting him to this meeting in his private home on Seswenna. It's just that the meeting is incredibly boring and a couple of discrete glances at the other faces around the table reveal they are every bit as bored as him.

“Hello?”

It takes a second for Hode to realize the voice was not just in his head and looks down.

A young boy is standing next to Hode's chair, looking up at him with searching eyes. The dark hair and fancy clothes leads Hode to believe this must be Valentis' son. The heir to the fortune.  
“Hello.” Hode replies, a little awkward as the boy's father is still talking.

“My name is Corin.” The boy continues, rather eloquent for such a young child. “Are you my father's friend?”

Hode glances around, sees everyone ignoring them and focuses on the boy again. He shrugs. “I like to think so.” If you wanted to advance in the ranks, you had to be on Macero Valentis' good side. “What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be playing with your friends?”

Corin shakes his head. “I have no friends. Just my nanny.”

For some reason, that makes Hode's heart clench a little.

“Father said I should be here. Learn.” Corin continues, stretches and tries in vain to be tall enough to look at the papers Hode has on the table. “Is it fun?”

-Not really, Hode wants to reply. “Sure.” A kid has no business being at a staff meeting. Corin should be outside playing with his friends. But, considering the ruthlessness of Macero Valentis, Hode is not surprised.

“Hode.” Major Commander Valentis' voice says, demanding his full attention. “Your numbers please.”

By the time Hode has read his reports, explained his numbers and promised even more improvement by the next meeting, which is going to be near impossible without the cost of lives, Corin has moved on.  
A quick scan reveals the little boy is now standing next to Yulia. She seems mildly perplexed but also clearly charmed. The woman rarely smiles but she does so now, and even ends up picking up Corin and placing him on her lap. She is speaking to him and whatever the subject is, the youngster is clearly finding it utterly fascinating and gives her a delighted smile.  
The boy is lacking a tooth, further underlining how young he is. Too young to be this quiet.

It doesn't take long before Macero Valentis calls for Yulia's attention, his voice sharp with irritation, and Hode notes how Corin's hand resting on her arm shifts into a pleading grip on the fabric of her jacket but the tiny fingers let go when she quickly places him back on the floor and stands up to give her report.

Hode watches as the boy moves on to the next person and then the next as they are distracted by business, some of them are amused by his presence, others ignore him all together, but he doesn't give up. Corin just keeps reaching out and devours any scrap of attention or brief kindness thrown his way. Hode's heart clenches again. The child is clearly desperate for a connection to someone.

Finally his father's patience runs out and Macero Valentis orders Corin to sit on a chair in the back of the room, stay put and pay attention.

Corin obediently walks back there, climbs up on the chair and settles. Back straight, hands in his lap, clearly well-trained, the boy studies them all but keeps quiet and keeps still. His gaze remains open, searching, and the others can't make themselves meet it. 

In an act of defiance, Hode looks over at him and when Corin meets his eyes, he winks at the young child.  
It brings another delighted, missing tooth smile.

Satisfied, Hode turns his attention back to Macero Valentis and makes sure he gets the numbers he needs. And once the meeting is over, there is so much work to be done and countless calls to be made, that Hode kind of forgets all about the kid.

It's late at night, Hode being back in his own bunk, when he suddenly remembers that he probably should have said goodbye to Corin.  
But in Hode's defense, there was so much going on, and he's not the child's father or relative. He's not his responsibility. And, besides, while Macero Valentis may be a strict father, Corin Valentis is surrounded by wealth and can have anything he points his finger at.

Corin Valentis is going to be just fine.

\- - -

**His children**

“Davarax. A word.”

Slightly surprised, Davarax glances over as Mardsk walks towards him. The guy is one of the teachers of the Foundlings, who rarely spoke to the Fighting Corps. Fair enough, Davarax had been a teacher once too but that was years ago.

“What can I help you with, _ner vod_?” Davarax asks, curious now.

Mardsk comes to a halt, seems to struggle for words and gives a big sigh before he just jumps into it. “Paz Vizla.”

Davarax frowns. The heir to the Vizla clan, he's seen the young boy around and knows he will one day be a valuable member of the Fighting Corps judging by his size and love for battle. “What about him?”

“He's a problem.” Mardsk blurts out. “The boy is a bully. He keeps picking on my Spring Class, beats them up and terrifies them.”

Davarax' frown deepens and he crosses his arms thoughtfully. “Wait. Your Spring Class? Aren't they, what, three or four years older than him?”

“Yeah, so?” Mardsk replies with a slight edge to his voice. “The boy is a bully nonetheless. He's disruptive and constantly challenging my authority, thinking he's above the rules because he's a Vizla.”

“And what do you want me to do about it?” Davarax does not like where this is going.

“You train him.” Mardsk plows on. “You have experience with difficult kids and you know she would approve of us keeping the Vizla clan quiet.”

Not liking him using his connection to her one bit, Davarax still doesn't reject the request right away. He's always had a weakness for the outcasts. “Let me talk to him...”

And true to his word, later that day, Davarax hunts down the kid. He finds him sitting in one of the study rooms, reading on one of the datapads there.  
Paz Vizla is big, Davarax has no trouble seeing how he can take on and defeat children years older than himself, but there is nothing menacing about the young boy right now. He is devouring the information on the datapad, which a quick peek reveals to be Mandalorian history. Interesting.  
“Hey.” Davarax gets his attention. “You know who I am?”

Paz looks up at him, slightly curious but completely self-assured. “Yeah. You're Davarax. You're-”

Davarax nods. “That's me. Pleased to meet you, Paz Vizla.”

Now Paz frowns and he sits up a little straighter. “What do you want?” There is a challenge in his words as well as in the insolent stare. He is his father's son, alright. 

“I wanted to meet you.” Davarax sits on the desk next to him. “Because they want me to train you.”

“Figures.” Paz scoffs with obvious contempt. “Mardsk is a coward.”

Amused, Davarax tilts his head and scan's the kids body language. It's a wonderful mess of arrogance and insecurity. He's angry, but also clearly hurt by Mardsk' action. Not completely corrupted by his father, then. Good. “He just knows when he's out of his league. That's not a bad thing, ad'ika. It can save your life outside the Covert.” Davarax sees the youngster wobbling between the lingering hurt and the inferred compliment. “So, would you be okay with that? Me training you?”

Paz looks at him, scans him in return and leans back in his chair. “Why would you want to do that? You're on the Fighting Corps. You don't do teacher stuff anymore.”

Davarax shrugs. “I might make an exception for you.”

“For me? Why? Because I'm a Vizla?” Paz drawls, suspicious.

“No.” Davarax says. “Because I think you have a lot of potential and you will will do great things for the Covert. I also think that maybe you need someone who understands you a little better to help that happen.”

Paz shifts uneasily on his chair, his gaze flickers and ruins his pretend arrogance. He swallows and makes himself meet Davarax' gaze. “And that's you?”

“That's me.”

“And who is to say you won't just hand me off to some other teacher?”

Davarax shakes his head. “I won't do that.” His words are calm and secure, no doubt whatsoever.

Paz considers it, then turns back to the datapad and shrugs. “Fine. Sure. Whatever.”

And just like that, Davarax had the first of what would be known as the Fearsome Four.

It takes a long time for him to gain Paz' trust and respect, but with a calm and steady approach, not responding to Paz' tantrums but rather make him use his words; the boy's energy is eventually channeled where it is meant to go.  
It doesn't mean Paz stops getting into fights, not by a long shot, but now he at least goes after the ones capable of defending themselves and guilty of some kind of offense, and not just some random victim that crosses Paz' path.

Then comes the morning when Davarax hears a knock on the door to his quarters, opens it and finds another teacher standing there with a tight grip on a tiny, skinny boy's neck.  
The boy stares sullenly at the floor, curly hair poking up at all angles, the neckline of his shirt pulled a little to the side and showing a prominent collarbone due to his skinniness. His tiny hands are clenched into tight fists. That is how Davarax meets Barthor.

Unlike Paz, Barthor doesn't show much emotion at being 'handed off' to a new teacher, but those eyes speak volumes. He is furious and filled with spite. Being small and skinny in a society that values strength and fighting abilities can't be easy, but he's been getting back at them in inventive and sometimes fire hazardous ways. Davarax could smell the stench of singed hair through his air filter when the teacher had appeared on his doorstep with the little culprit.  
Barthor had pulled one stunt after another, not surprising, but what Davarax admires is the fact that they were never able to prove it was him. Not once. That speaks of intelligence. So he agrees to train him as well.

Where Paz uses anger and brute strength to intimidate, Barthor immediately tries to sneak his way into Davarax' brain and heart, mapping Davarax' mind to manipulate him while trying to act small and helpless to appeal to his protective instinct. Sneaky little thing. He's going to go far in life.

It turns out that once Barthor realizes that Davarax doesn't fall for his tricks, but treats him with respect and actually talks to him and not over him, the little one thaws and becomes his shadow.  
It's kind of cute, really.

Paz isn't pleased at first, but decides the runt isn't a threat or a challenge so he ends up mostly ignoring Barthor, who keeps a wary distance in return. They focus on Davarax, not each other.

“Please...” A third teacher pleads some time later. He holds out his arm and pulls up the fabric and shows the painful mark there. “She bit me! I pulled her off a kid she was pummeling and she bit me. She held on for so long I considered prying her jaws open with a stick!” The man lowers his arm and shakes his head. “You gotta help me, Dav. Please!”

Now this one Davarax asks for some time to consider. He has heard a lot about Raga Saxon, have seen her in action, and she might be the one child he's not entirely sure he can help. He has no idea how to deal with that kind of volatile temper. There is fearless and then there is reckless.

Somehow Paz finds out that Raga's teacher has asked to move her to Davarax and the boy instantly starts to hassle him to say yes.  
“She's awesome. She really is! You gotta see her fight.” Paz pleads, walking next to Davarax.

“I have seen that very thing. That is what worries me.” Davarax mutters. “There is no discipline to her. She's basically feral, Paz.”

“I know!” Paz' grin is the brightest Davarax has even seen on the boy. “As I said, she's awesome. You got to let her join us. I'll look after her, I promise. You won't even notices she's there. Please?”

Paz rarely asks for anything so Davarax promises him he'll think about it. And the next day, he stays hidden and watches Raga. He sees the energy crackling under her skin, the wild hair and her complete lack of fear. It's the kind of personality that can ruin a mission and get other Mandalorians killed, but then he sees her with Paz and observes, to his surprise, the other side to her. She 'is' capable of team work, she can be still and patient, and for some weird reason it seems like Paz is the one who brings that out in her.

Fine. She deserves a chance as well. She's a tough little fighter, like a Mandalorian should be. They just need to work on her mean streak.

Bringing Raga in changes the dynamics as she instantly goes after Barthor, like a predator sensing prey. Davarax hopes that Paz will put an end to it, but no such luck. The bigger boy just chews on his snacks and watches with lazy amusement. Davarax is on the verge of interfering when Barthor strikes back.

Raga's shrieks of fury echoes through the hallways, Barthor runs for his life, while Paz chews his snacks with lazy amusement, and Davarax struggles not to laugh. Yeah, Barthor is going to be fine. He doesn't need help.

It is almost a year later when he opens a hatch and finds a frightened boy staring up at him. His name is Din.  
Davarax reaches out a hand, Din takes it.

When the request comes if Davarax can train Din too, there is a lack of teachers and Din is severely affected by the trauma he's been through, Davarax doesn't hesitate. He found the boy, he feels responsible for him.

And against all odds, Din is the glue that makes them all fit together.

Paz' protective instinct is triggered hard, Raga senses Paz' approval and actually behaves long enough to realize she likes him, and Barthor is so happy to no longer be the lone one against the other two that he reaches out a hand in friendship as well.  
It shouldn't work. Not at all. But it does.

He even finds them, more than once, sleeping in a pile together.

And as they learn, as they grow, they keep amazing him and there's not a single day that goes by where he doesn't feel proud of them. They are difficult, yes, complicated, definitely, but they are good students and will do good things for the Covert, he knows this.

The others start referring to them as the Fearsome Four, but Davarax calls them his children and he knows in his heart that he will love them until the day he dies.

\- - -

**The Return of Drunk Corin**

It's late. Zev'sonya empties the final content of her glass into her mouth and gets it down with a big swallow before placing the glass on the table. Time to go to bed. Those stupid ex-Troopers, still giggling and drinking over by the other table, are going to be wrecks tomorrow and someone has to be able to defend this place if something should happen.

Okay, so Mose hasn't indulged in anything but food and water and Din is still somewhat sober, but Zev'sonya hasn't seen Raga or Paz in a while and suspect they might be stowed away somewhere private and getting equally as drunk as these aforementioned ex-Trooper idiots.

At the opposite side of the room, Leo says something that has them all howling with laughter. It is also the signal for her to hurry out of there before his drunken attention swings her way.  
It's even more difficult to snap at him when he's all soft and vulnerable like he tends to get on nights like these.  
Getting up on her feet and walking towards the door, Zev'sonya is so busy focusing on dodging Leo that she forgets about the other threat in the room.

All it takes is an accidental brush of her arm against him as she walks by and the contact makes him turn towards her, arms reaching out and wrapping themselves around her like a Deneba plant, and so Zev'sonya finds herself trapped and hugged by a very drunk Corin Valentis.

Grunting annoyed as she's squeezed front first to his chest, she then gives him a couple of awkward pats on his back. “Yes, yes, thank you. Very nice. I was just leaving.”

“We never get to talk.” Corin says, his lips by her ear and his voice sounds both sleepy and happy, which he tends to get on nights like these. “I mean, I talk to Mose a lot. Leave-it too. But you... you tend to avoid me.” Suddenly there is a touch of sadness to his words as he asks; “I think you're awesome, but you don't like me much, huh?”

Zev'sonya twitches, feeling trapped by both his arms and his words. She does like him. She just doesn't do... this very well. Any other random man holding her like this would have been curled up in pain on the floor by now, but she knows Corin isn't hugging her to cop a feel and he won't try anything creepy. He just gets extremely tactile when he drinks and means no harm. “I like you just fine, Corin. I don't do small talk, that's all.”

Corin hums, all happiness again, still holding her close. “Yeah. You're like Din. You two get along.”

Zev'sonya frowns a little and moves her hand up to touch the skin on his neck. “You're hot.”

“Thank you.” Corin chirps. “You too.”

“No, I mean,” she feels the heat radiating from him, even through some of his clothes, “do you have a fever? Are you sick?”

“No.” Corin sounds unfazed. “I'm fine. Din just says I run warm. Whatever that means.”

“Oh.” Zev'sonya stands there and waits for him to let go. He doesn't, just rocks her gently and hums happily. She sighs and pats his back again. “Okay, right, time for me to leave.”

“Nooo....” Corin tightens his grip on her. “Stay. We'll be best friends. I'll make you bracelet.”

Gritting her teeth and losing patience, Zev'sonya lets her hands drop to her sides. “I will stab you.”

“No, you won't.” Corin leans back and lets go, but before she can escape he cups her face between his hand and holds her still to stare into her eyes. She can feel her cheeks getting squished by his palms and her lips pursing a little under the pressure.  
Corin tries to give her a solemn look that keeps getting interrupted by his drunken smile. “Do you know why?”

She tries to glare.

“Because you're really a nice person.” Corin gives a sage nod. “Yes, you are. Mm-hm.”

She tries to glare harder.

“I've seen all the good things that you do. Even when you think no one is watching.” Corin leans in and rests his forehead against hers. “I know you care. About us. A lot. A whole bunch of lot.”

Zev'sonya's face flares up with embarrassed heat. “Corin.”

“You like to act all angry because you're hurting.” Corin continues in a soft tone. “I've been there. I understand.”

To her horror, Zev'sonya has a moment where her eyes sting with the threat of possible tears but luckily that brings the anger back and she starts squirming. “It's no act, I 'am' angry. Corin, you-”

“It's okay.” Corin croons, dragging her into a new hug and wrapping his arms tight around her.

“Corin!” Zev 'sonya snaps. “Will you-”

“Oh my...” A familiar voice says.

Zev'sonya manages to turn her head and sees Leo standing there, staring at them. She exhales with relief. Finally the stereotypical male jealousy can be useful! “Could you-”

“Don't. Move.” Leo orders, waving his hands to underline the importance of his words. “This is 'so' cute. I gotta get a holo-cam! Stay right there!” He runs off and leaves her stunned with disbelief.  
Two and a half second after that, she's snapped out of her surprised apathy by a loud slurping noise.  
Turning her head, she sees Mose standing there. He's holding a large drinking container with one of those straws to drink from, and he is looking at her and Corin with a smug expression on his face.  
“Mose.”

“Lorda.” He replies, taking another sip, staying right where he is.

Zev'sonya gestures to Corin and raises her eyebrows in a mute order to remove him.

Mose slurps some more before he lowers the drink and sighs with fake remorse. “So... do you remember when he was clinging to me and I asked you for help?”

“Yeah?” Zev'sonya grits out, remembering how she'd merely laughed and savored the sight.

“Exactly.” Mose goes back to slurping and watching, with not the faintest intention of rescuing her.

“This isn't funny” Zev'sonya growls, not calmed by Corin stroking her back in a soothing manner.

Mose shrugs. “A little bit.”

Zev'sonya can think of at least eleven ways to get back at him but doesn't get to hiss them in alphabetical order as there is yet another voice speaking up.

“What's going on?”

Again, Zev'sonya is hit with relief and she turns, as much as Corin will let her while he hushes her softly and strokes her back, so she can send a meaningful look at the Mandalorian standing nearby. “Din.” She gestures to the human leech attached to her. “Would you mind?”

Din crosses his arms while his helmet tilts in an almost thoughtful manner. And when he speaks, there is no hiding the grin in his words. “What's in it for me?”

Betrayal on all sides! Zev'sonya cannot believe what she's hearing. “A not-stabbed boyfriend!”

Corin hushes her again, squeezing her tight for a moment to underline how much he cares, and she is seconds away from just screaming with frustration when there is the flash of light and she sees Leo standing there with a holo-cam scanning them.  
“No.” Zev'sonya states with no room for debate. “Leo, I'm warning you...” She squirms again but Corin isn't only warm, he's freakishly strong too and she is reluctant to use force. “Leo, leave it!”

Din clears his throat and steps over to the blond idiot, who simply keeps scanning them with the holo-cam with drunken determination. “Listen, if you want to slide in there, I could take the picture?”

Zev'sonya bares her teeth in pure fury while Leo gasps with delight; “Would you?”

Din grabs the holo-cam while Leo runs over. Zev'sonya is planning a harsh kick to Leo's shin, but before she can deliver it; Corin grabs her and turns her a little and suddenly they are cheek to cheek, with Leo kneeling in front of them, arms spread, - A loud slurp confirms Mose's towering shape behind them - and everyone facing the Mandalorian about to immortalize the moment.  
“Smile!” Din declares cheerfully, as the rays from the holo-cam begin to scan them.

“I'm stabbing you all!” Zev'sonya snarls.

The image turns out hideous. Corin and Leo are flustered, messy haired and grinning like idiots. Mose is leaning in behind them all to be in the image, still holding that big drinking container and sucking on that straw. And Zev'sonya herself? Well, she looks... grumpy.

It probably the least flattering image of herself she's ever seen.

But if Zev'sonya ends up saving that image instead of just deleting it? Well, then that's her business, isn't it?

\- - -

**The Love Festival**

“I guess we'd better hurry, huh?” Corin says, marching on in front of Din and aiming to grab the supplies they need so they can rush back to the castle. 

Corin's hair is bouncing slightly with each step he takes, the pauldrons making his already nice looking shoulders appear even bulkier and there is a small fold of his shirt getting untucked at the lower back. This makes Din's heart ache with emotion and he can feel himself smiling.  
“I'm not so sure.” Din says The little Womp Rat had been invited along, but he'd barely had time to look up from whatever clay project he and Junior were working on. Besides, he and Corin are just ten minutes away, heading into the small town to pick up some food stuff and, Corin insists, treats for everyone. “He seemed quite busy. And you know Mose is just one sentimental day away from trying to kidnap him, so he doesn't mind watching the kids.”

They've barely entered the town before it becomes pretty clear that they are having some kind of celebration today. There are flowers everywhere and the crowds seem bigger than usual.  
Mostly the town people keep to themselves. They don't mind the ones who have occupied the castle stopping by to do business and buying their wares, but they keep their distance and Din can't blame them. Trouble tend to appear at the castle every two months or so.

“Oh, that is beautiful.” Corin mumbles and wanders over to stall with a huge weapons display.

Din pauses and waits a small distance away. He's got no credits to buy anything beyond food and he's set with weapons and ammo for the time being, so he'll just watch and make sure Corin is safe.

That is when a young, pretty woman approaches Corin and Din instantly tenses up. He can see the appreciative look in her eyes as she scans Corin from head to boots and while Din agrees, his man is fine, he doesn't like the self-assured way she saunters up to Corin. People who are pushy and rude tend to make Corin anxious and easy to order around.

“Hello.” The woman purrs, pulling out something she's holding out towards Corin; a delicate flower with petals colored the softest shade of pink. “Today is the Festival of Love. We give out pink flowers to the ones who are still looking to find their Love. That way, you can find others looking for the same.”

Din clenches his jaw so hard it hurts. Would it be rude to shoot her? Maybe he can claim his weapon malfunctioned? Or use his rifle and there would be no evidence...

“Oh.” Corin says, too trusting. “That's really nice. Thank you.” He then points at Din. “But I've already found him, you see.”

For a second, Din feels completely stunned. He's so used to thinking and wanting so much in silence, that it's almost unsettling to hear Corin state out in the open that there is indeed something between them. A promise. A promise that keeps Din's heart beating and filled with hope.  
A promise in the shape of a pauldron Corin voluntarily wears even after learning its meaning.

Din walks over, torn between a giddy delight and the completely irrational worry that Corin would decide to choose a complete stranger over him. He comes to a halt next to Corin, hoping his armor and helmet makes him as imposing to the stranger as others have claimed in the past.

“You and him?” She asks with no sign of disappointment, gesturing between Corin and Din.

“I am that lucky, yes.” Corin replies with a quick glance over at Din and a sheepish smile.

The woman puts the pink flower away and rummages around in a bag by her hip. “Here.” She pulls up two deep red flowers instead. “Red for the Lovers who have found each other.”

Corin accepts the flowers, but when he offers to pay her for them she shakes her head.  
“Today is the Festival of Love. The flowers are for everyone.” She then sees a new victim and trots over to a Falleen walking by. “Excuse me, Miss.”

Turning to face Din, Corin reaches up and gently manipulates the stem of the flower behind the top of Din's breastplate before he does the same to himself. Nodding with a satisfied grin, the gorgeous smile lasts until a thought strikes Corin and he quickly looks back up at the pining Din. Now there is just nervous unease in his beautiful eyes.  
“Uhm, I didn't... Was that okay? I think these people know I'm a former Trooper, maybe I shouldn't have said that. It's probably better for you if we keep that quiet. I'm sorry.”

Corin reaches out to grab the flower poking up from Din's breastplate and Din takes one step back to protect it from his grasp. “No.”

Corin's hand pauses mid-stretch and he sends Din a startled look. “Din. Everyone will know.”

“Good.” Din grumbles and yanks Corin over so he can wrap his arms tightly around him, using one hand to cup the back of Corin's head and cradle him close.  
He wants them to know. Everyone. Din Djarin wants every living soul in the entire Galaxy to know. 

After a moment of hesitation, Corin's arms go around Din as well. He then mumbles, so quietly that Din probably wouldn't have heard it without his helmet, “Thank you.”

For what? Accepting his past? Din has ghosts of his own in that department. For not shunning him in public? Din would ask him to take the marriage vows with him right here if he didn't fear he would be pushing Corin into it before he's ready. For hugging him? Din always wants to do that, countless times every day and the only thing he doesn't like about it is having to eventually let go.  
“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, ner kar'ta.” Din replies.

Corin lets out a soft exhale, sounds both relieved and amazed, as if he still struggles to believe this. His fingers dig in to get a firm grip on Din's cloak and he hugs him tight. “Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, Din.”

At that moment, Din decides he likes this Festival of Love. Maybe they shouldn't just rush back to the castle. Maybe they should look around and see what else can happen today...

-

At the castle, the child pauses from patting the clay with both hands, sits up and turns to look in the direction of the town. Its ears twitches a couple of times.  
Then the little one giggles, turns back and continues shaping the clay into yet another masterpiece.  
-

[ ](https://imgbb.com/)  
_Gorgeous and ADORABLE art by the art deity cac0daemonia, look at these adorable dorks and the grumpy one! Aaaah, so cute and I LOVE IT!_


End file.
